A.  LITTLE 

PRINCESS 

BY 

Caroline  Hart 

* 

HART  SERIES  No.  10 


Copyright,  1909,  by  The  Arthur  Westbrook  Company 


Published  by 

THE  ARTHUR  WESTBROOK  COMPANY, 
CLEVELAND,  U.  S.  A. 


^Printed  In  the  United  States  of  America/ 


CONTENTS 


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Chapter  II  * 

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Chapter  IV  « 

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Chapter  V  -  * 

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Chapter  VI 

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Chapter  VII  * 

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Chapter  IX  -  * 

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Chapter  X  *■ 

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Chapter  XI  « 

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Chapter  XII  -» 

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Chapter  XIII  - 

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Chapter  XIV,  * 

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Chapter  XV  • 

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Chapter  XVI 

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Chapter  XVII 

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Chapter  XVIII 

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Chapter  XIX 

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Chapter  XX 

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Chapter  XXI 

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Chapter  XXII  - 

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Chapter  XXIII  - 

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Chapter  XXIV, 

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Chapter  XXV 

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Chapter  XXVI 

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Chapter  XXVII  - 

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Chapter  XXVIII 

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Chapter  XXIX  « 

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Chapter  XXX  - 

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Chapter  XXXI  - 

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Chapter  XXXII 

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Chapter  XXXIII 

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Chapter  XXXIV 

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Chapter  XXXV  - 

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Chapter  XXXVI  ' 

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Chapter  XXXVII 

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23^ 

A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

By 

Caroline  Hart 


Chapter  I. 


The  windows  were  open,  and  the  draft  occasioned 
by  the  assage  of  air  from  the  fan-light  over  the  door 
comir  iigling  with  the  circulation  through  the  casement 
tow  ,ied  agreeably  the  brow  of  a  young  man  who  sat, 
w'  .h  palette,  brushes  and  maul-stick,  gazing  critically, 
upon  a  portrait  which  rested  on  the  easel  before  him. 
The  sun  through  the  sky-light  made  the  heat  of  the 
room  rather  greater  than  it  otherwise  would  have 
been.  But  Ballard  Hilliard  worked  on  as  diligently 
as  if  his  daily  bread  depended  upon  the  rapidity  of 
the  strokes  of  his  skillfully  wielded  brush.  Not  that 
it  did,  you  know,  for  the  clever  young  artist  was  one 
of  those  favorites  of  the  gods  who  seemed  to  have 
reached  the  rainbow  and  its  consequent  bags  of  gold 
without  the  smallest  effort  upon  his  own  part. 

His  brother  artists  sighed  enviously. 

“Not  but  what  he  deserves  his  success,  you  under¬ 
stand,”  they  would  explain  to  each  other ;  “but  if  he 
were  a  poor  devil  without  a  dollar  with  which  to  bless 

1153391 


e 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


himself  the  world  would  not  take  such  pains  to  dis¬ 
cover  this  remarkable  talent  of  which  they  now  seem 
so  proud.” 

But  Ballard  Hilliard  paid  no  attention  either  to  their 
remarks  or  his  own  success.  He  loved  art  for  art’sf 
sake,  and  he  slaved  and  toiled  early  and  late — not  for' 
the  number  of  ducats  that  resulted  therefrom,  but  the 
glow  of  an  ideality  lightened  and  brightened  his  life. 
He  had  before  him  a  grand  ambition,  and  toward  that 
goal  every  act  of  his  life  was  to  him  a  step.  He 
wanted  to  be  great,  and  to  know  that  he  deserved  his 
greatness.  He  wanted  no  fame  purchased  by  his  social 
position  and  the  wealth  that  had  come  to  him  as  an 
inheritance  through  generations.  He  wanted  not  the 
glory  of  a  day.  He  had  no  desire  for  that  short-lived 
notoriety  that  made  him  the  lion  of  the  hour. 

He  wanted  his  name  to  go  down  to  posterity.  He 
wanted  to  feel  within  himself  that  future  generations 
would  know  him  even  better  than  his  contemporaries 
had  done.  And  he  deceived  himself  in  nothing.  He 
was  his  own  severest  critic.  He  spared  himself  in 
nothing.  He  grieved  over  his  failures  and  delighted 
in  his  successes  as  a  mother  does  over  her  best-loved 
child.  i 

And  that  was  the  passion  of  his  soul.  He  was  liv¬ 
ing  in  dreams  of  the  future.  1 

He  was  thinking  of  that,  perhaps,  as  he  sat  there 
upon  that  golden  day  in  June,  gazing  at  the  ideal  head 
upon  the  canvas,  when  a  light,  quick  knock  sounded 
upon  the  door.  In  answer  to  a  rather  impatient 
“Come  in!”  the  door  opened,  and  a  small  figure,  bear¬ 
ing  a  basket  laden  with  flowers,  entered. 

It  was  a  tiny,  piquant  face,  with  a  singular  p*s<ec- 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


71 


lion  of  feature  that  touched  his  artist’s  soul  with  a 
Sudden  thrill.  She  was  small,  almost  childish  in 
jappearance,  but  there  was  a  roundness,  a  willowy  grace 
to  her  form  that  he  had  never  seen  equaled,  and  as 
she  stood  there  in  the  center  of  the  floor,  holding  her 
'basket  up  for  his  inspection,  her  exquisite  face  dimp¬ 
ling  with  a  smile  that  seemed  to  be  all  in  her  eyes, 
though  the  dimples  were  near  her  mouth,  he  gazed 
in  silence  as  he  might  have  done  at  some  masterpiece 
of  art  that  touched  and  thrilled  the  lost  chord  of  his 
inner  self. 

“Want  some  flowers  ?”  she  asked,  with  an  almost 
boyish  intonation  of  speech  and  audacity. 

Her  voice  was  musical,  in  exact  accord  with  her 
appearance,  and  the  very  slanginess  of  her  manner 
seemed  to  sit  well  upon  her  piquant  self.  Ballard 
[Hilliard’s  magnificent  dark  eyes  softened  as  they 
rested  upon  her. 

“Are  you  selling  them?”  he  asked,  scarcely  con¬ 
scious  of  what  he  was  saying. 

“You  don’t  suppose  I  am  giving  them  away,  do 
you?”  she  questioned,  saucily.  “When  I  go  to 
OBloomingdale  it  will  be  as  an  attendant  and  not  a 
lunatic,  and  don’t  you  forget  it!  Want  to  buy?” 

“Perhaps.  Where  do  you  live?” 

“Avenue  B,  top  flat,  tenement  row.  Would  you 
like  to  know  the  number?  If  you  will  call,  there 
might  be  something  to  interest  your  artistic  eye  there 
in  the  shape  of  Persian  portieres ,  Sevres  china  and 
Guido’s  masterpiece.  We  got  the  last  named  for  re¬ 
turned  tea  tickets.  As  my  mother  always  teaches  me 
to  be  entirely  truthful,  I  had  better  add  that  it  is  not 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


the  original,  but  a  copy.  Would  you  like  to  know  the 
brand  of  tea  that  they  give  them  with?” 

“Thanks,  no.  I  never  drink  tea,”  returned  Hilliard, 
with  perfect  earnestness. 

“You  miss  half  the  good  of  life,”  she  said,  with  a 
grin.  Then,  turning  to  a  stand  of  fading  flowers: 
“That’s  about  the  best  picture  you’ve  got  here,  isn’t 
it?  That  is  one  thing  that  none  of  you  fellows  can 
do — you  can’t  get  over  nature.” 

“I  quite  agree  with  you,”  lie  replied,  studying  ad¬ 
miringly  the  changes  in  her  lovely  countenance.  “Did 
you  ever  have  your  portrait  painted,  little  one?” 

“Pooh,  no!  One  or  two  of  the  fellows  have  asked 
me,  but  I  want  no  one  to  do  that  who  is  not  a  worthy 
successor  of  Rembrandt  or  Raphael.  Perhaps  Titian 
could  do  best,  for  he  could  catch  the  light  in  my  hair 
that  the  others  would  fail  upon.  I  think  it  would 
make  me  so  seasick  that  I  should  never  recover  if  I 
were  to  see  chromos  of  myself  like  those  I  have  seen 
of  some  ladies  of  society.  I  have  been  around  artists’ 
studios  more  or  less  all  my  life,  and  after  the  shocks 
I  have  received,  I  have  schooled  myself  not  to  see  the 
contents  of  their  work-rooms  at  all.” 

“Are  you  so  good  a  judge?” 

“Well,  perhaps  not  in  an  artistic  way,  you  under¬ 
stand;  but  I  have  absorbed  a  sort  of  knowledge  of 
things  in  general  regarding  art  that  I  couldn’t  have 
escaped  if  I  had  tried.  It  had  to  come  to  me  like  the 
measles  and  chicken-pox  come  to  more  fortunate  chil¬ 
dren.  I  don’t  know  anything  else.” 

“Do  you  come  from  a  family  of  artists,  then?” 

“Yes.  My  grandfather  was  Roderick  Millbourne. 
My  father  was  Donald  Melbourne.* 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


9 


The  names  she  had  mentioned  were  so  v/ell  known 
in  the  art  world  that  Ballard  Hilliard  sprung  to  his 
feet. 

“You  don’t  mean  it?”  he  cried.  “Why,  my  prize 
possession  is  a  painting  by  Roderick  Millbourne ! 
They  were  the  greatest  artists —  But,  pardon  me, 
how — ” 

j  He  could  not  complete  his  sentence,  but  stopped  in 
considerable  embarrassment. 

“How  does  it  come  that  I  am  selling  flowers  in  the 
streets?”  she  said,  quietly,  though  a  trifle  bitterly, 
finishing  his  sentence  for  him.  “Do  you  remember 
the  old  quotation  from  ‘Pinafore’ :  Things  are  sel¬ 
dom  what  they  seem’?  It  has  been  so  in  our  case. 
You  know  my  father’s  misfortune.  The  whole  world 
knew  it.  What  he  made  one  day  he  spent  for  rum 
the  next.  The  picture-dealers  got  the  money  that 
rightfully  belonged  to  him,  and  nobody  ever  found  out 
that  he  was  great  until  after  he  was  dead  and  my  poor 
mother  a  pauper.” 

Hilliard  tried  to  find  something  to  say,  but  some¬ 
how  he  felt  tongue-tied  in  the  presence  of  that  tiny 
flower-girl  who  stood  there  before  him  like  a  small 
princess  in  disguise.  He  could  not  express  his  sym¬ 
pathy  for  her  in  words,  but  there  was  a  note  in  his 
. voice  far  more  eloquent  when  he  said: 

|  “And  your  mother.  Does  she  live?” 

“Yes,”  answered  the  girl,  her  great  eyes  roving 
to  the  window  sadly,  her  lip  quivering  under  an 
emotion  that  she  was  striving  to  conceal.  “She 
lives,  but —  Don’t  make  me  speak  of  it,  sir.  My 
mother  is  dying  as  rapidly  as  a  woman  can  who  is 


1C  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

on  her  feet  from  morning  until  night.  She  won’t  give 
up,  and  some  night — ” 

She  did  not  finish  her  sentence,  but  turned  suddenly 
and  was  walking  rapidly  toward  the  door  when  Hill- 
liard  caught  her  by  the  arm. 

“You  must  not  go — at  least  not  yet,”  he  cried,  his 
own  voice  trembling  as  he  saw  the  white  anguish  of 
tier  face.  “I  admired  the  work  of  your  grandfather 
and  of  your  father  as  I  have  done  that  of  no  modern 
artist.  You  must  let  me  come  and  see  your  mother 
for  your  father’s  sake.  You  must — ” 

“No,  you  can’t  do  that.  She  is  very  proud.  She 
'does  not  know  that  I  sell  flowers,  and  it  would  break 
her  heart  if  she  did.  She  thinks  that  I  am  in  a  pri¬ 
vate  office  in  one  of  the  dry-goods  stores;  but  I  lost 
my  position  there  and  did  not  dare  to  tell  her  for  fear 
the  shock  would  kill  her.  We  are  very  poor.  There 
is  an  old  blind  florist  that  has  a  place  not  far  from  our 
house,  and  I  sell  for  him.  We  divide  the  profits,  and 
she  knows  nothing  of  it.  I  think  it  would  kill  her 
outright  if  she  knew  I  am  in  the  streets  all  day.  I 
have  sold  them  for  a  year  now,  and  she  has  never 
Suspected.  I  have  my  regular  customers — and  it  pays 
better,  much  better  than  the  store.  But  she  is  growing 
Weaker  every  day.  There  is  not  a  night  that  I  go 
home  that  I  can  not  see  the  change  the  day  has 
brought.  Oh,  sir,  I  try  to  be  brave,  but  it  is  breaking 
my  heart!” 

“Poor  child.  Poor  little  one !”  whispered  Hill¬ 
iard,  more  touched  than  he  remembered  ever  to  have 
been  before.  “How  strangely  hard  life  is  for  some, 
and  so  easy — so  easy  for  others  who  could  better  bear 
the  trials.  But  you  must  let  me  come  to  see  her — • 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


II 


yuur  mother,  you  know.  You  must  let  me,  for  your 
father’s  sake,  you  understand.  Come,  look  here! 
You  see  I  am  not  a  bad  artist,  as  modfcrn  ones  go. 
Look  at  this.  I  am  going  to  ask  your  mother’s  con* 
sent  to  paint  your  portrait.” 

He  had  turned  her  around  and  led  her  toward  the 
canvas,  which,  though  incomplete,  showed  the  superb 
talent  of  the  painter.  Her  face  brightened  as  if  urn* 
der  the  influence  of  sunshine.  * 

“Oh,  I  say,  did  you  do  that?”  she  cried,  in  sucK 
genuine  surprise  and  admiration  that  he  laughed  out¬ 
right. 

“Yes,”  he  answered. 

She  did  not  speak  for  many  minutes,  but  stood 
there  apparently  drinking  in  the  work  of  art  in  su¬ 
preme  delight.  • 

“Your  drawing,  your  coloring,  your  technique,  your 
style  are  perfect!”  she  cried,  at  last,  with  suppressed 
enthusiasm.  “Ah,  you  work  from  love!  It  is  there  in 
every  sweep  of  the  brush.  Your  fame  is  a  dowry 
from  Heaven.  An  unfinished  portrait  such  as  that, 
even  if  you  were  to  die  to-night,  would  be  a  monu¬ 
ment  that  would  perpetuate  your  name  through  all 
the  ages.” 

Hillard’s  face  flushed  as  he  listened.  All  his  life 
he  had  received  praise,  but  none  had  gone  to  his  heart 
like  that. 

“Who  is  she?”  asked  the  girl,  nodding  at  the  can¬ 
vas.  “She  is  the  most  beautiful  woman  I  ever  saw.” 

“She  h  an  ideal.  I  thought  her  beautiful,  too,  until 
I  saw  you.  Pardon  me ;  I  don’t  wish  to  be  rude.  I 
may  surely  admire  the  work  of  God  even  as  you  ad¬ 
mire  mine.  Not  to  the  woman,  but  the  artistic  model, 


12 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


I  say  that  you  are  the  most  exquisite  piece  of  molding 
that  I  have  ever  seen.  For  the  sake  of  art,  let  me 
paint  you.  You  have  the  soul  of  an  artist.  It  is  born 
•in  you.  I  beg  it  as  a  favor — :for  the  sake  of  the  be¬ 
loved  mistress  of  both  our  hearts,  let  me -paint  you!” 

She  put  out  her  hand  and  raised  her  eyes  humid 
with  tears. 

“It  shall  be  my  humble  contribution  to  your  future 
greatness,”  she  said,  softly. 

She  did  it  for  love  of  art.  Is  it  God  who  rules 
events  such  as  that?  Can  it  be  that  He,  who  doeth 
all  things  rightly  and  well,'  writes  it  in  the  book  of  pre¬ 
destination  a  situation  such  as  that,  with  the  awful 
future  veiled? 


Chapter  II. 


“Carroll!” 

There  was  a  rather  heavy  brush  between  Ballard 
Hilliard’s  teeth  which  thickened  his  articulation  a  tri¬ 
fle,  but  not  sufficiently  to  make  the  word  misunder¬ 
stood.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  portrait  and  not 
the  model.  She  heard,  but  waited  for  him  to  continue 
He  repeated : 

“Carroll!” 

“Hun!” 

“Are  you  tired?” 

“Dead  tired!  My  neck  is  cramped  and  both  arms 
are  fast  asleep.” 

“Let  us  rest  awhile.  My  fingers  are  paralyzed  from 
holding  this  palette.” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  13 

“That  is  why  you  thought  of  my  fatigue,  I  sup¬ 
pose.5’ 

He  laughed  as  he  laid  his  brushes  and  palette  away. 

She  came  up  behind  him  and  leaned  over  his  chair, 
catching  her  breath  in  a  little  gasp  of  surprise. 

“Oh!”  she  exclaimed.  “You  are  idealizing  again. 
I  thought  you  were  going  to  paint  me  as  I  am.” 

“I  am:  I  have.  One  can  not  improve  upon  the 
idealization  of  God.  I  could  not  paint  you  as  beauti¬ 
ful  as  you  are  without  an  inspiration  from  Heaven.” 

He  spoke  with  suppressed  enthusiasm,  as  he  always 
did  when  her  beauty  was  referred  to.  The  speech 
was  followed  by  an  embarrassed  silence  on  the  part  of 
Carroll  Melbourne.  Hilliard  observed  it,  and  wishing 
to  relieve  her,  exclaimed,  briskly: 

“Look  at  that!”  holding  up  his  middle  finger  for 
her  inspection.  “I  did  not  feel  it  while  I  was  at  work, 
but  see  how  the  brushes  have  pinched  my  fingers.  They 
usually  callous  it  and  make  it  sore,  but  this  is  a  regu¬ 
lar  blood-blister.” 

“Let  me  open  it  from  the  under  side,”  said  Car- 
roll,  turning  in  a  business-like  way  from  the  contem¬ 
plation  of  her  own  pictured,  poetical  beauty  to  the 
most  prosaic  matter  of  relieving  a  blood-blister. 
“Where  are  your  needles?  Ah,  here!” 

She  selected  one,  and  kneeling  beside  him,  took  his 
hand  in  hers.  As  she  bent  her  pretty  head  above  it, 
a  slow  flush  mounted  from  Ballard  Hilliard’s  throat 
to  his  brow.  A  soft  light  burned  in  his  superb  eyes 
such  as  no  woman  had  been  able  to  call  there  before. 
A  smile  trembled  upon  the  corner  of  his  finely  cut 
mouth,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  realized 
that  love  of  a  woman  was  master  of  love  of  art ;  that 


114  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

there  was  something  besides  a  canvas  and  brushes  in 
the  world;  that  the  human  heart  was  the  perfected 
work  of  God,  and  that  his  had  been  played  upon  by 
the  great  Guiding  Hand. 

He  forgot  all  else  than  that.  He  cared  to  remem¬ 
ber  nothing.  He  knew  that  he  loved  the  girl  who  was 
there  so  closely  beside  him,  with  his  hand  clasped  in 
hers  almost  tenderly,  and — 

He  did  not  complete  the  thought,  for  she  had  lifted 
her  head,  and  was  about  to  rise. 

"There!”  she  exclaimed.  “I  don’t  think  you  will 
have  any  more  trouble  with  that.  You  are  ruining 
your  hands.” 

He  watched  her  rise  as  one  watches  a  sunbeam  go. 
He  looked  at  her  hungrily,  yearningly,  for  a  moment; 
then  he  too  arose,  with  a  sigh  smothered  in  his  heart, 
and  rapidly  walked  the  floor  with  bent  head,  evidently 
thinking  deeply,  unhappily. 

The  mental  conflict  had  whitened  his  lips  and  drawn 
his  brows,  but  Carroll  did  not  see.  Something  in  his 
'manner  had  made  her  nervous,  though  she  could 
scarcely  have  told  what,  and  she  had  turned  to  his 
'desk,  upon  which  were  scattered  numerous  etchings 
and  photographs  in  artistic  negligence.  She  was  turn¬ 
ing  them  over  carelessly,  almost  without  seeing  them, 
when  he  approached  and  stood  beside  her  for  some 
seconds  in  silence.  He  was  not  looking  at  her,  but 
down  at  the  tiny  brown  hands  that  were  fluttering  in 
and  out  among  the  pictures;  and  his  thoughts  were 
away  as  well. 

He  was  thinking  of  the  woman  who  held  his  prom¬ 
ise  of  marriage — thinking  of  how  little  she  knew  the 
Sneaning  of  love  compared  with  this  grand  passion 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


IS 


that  he  felt  for  this  flower-girl  with  her  artist’s  soul. 
He  was  wondering  if  honor  was  the  rivet  in  a  loveless 
bond,  or  if  honor  did  not  compel  him  to  break  it. 
'And  then  Carroll  glanced  up  with  a  smile,  and  he  met 
her  eye. 

The  work  was  done. 

f 

He  forgot  that  other  woman  to  whom  his  pledge 
belonged.  His  passion  had  crept  from  his  heart  to 
his  head  and  entangled  his  brain.  He  leaned  forward 
and  slipped  his  arm  about  the  girl,  drawing  her  to 
his  breast.  * 

“Carroll,”  he  whispered,  “are  you  too  much  an 
angel  to  know  the  meaning  of  love  ?”  , 

His  arm  held  her ;  his  hand  pressed  her  cheek  down 
upon  his  bosom.  She  did  not  reply,  but  lay  there 
trembling,  with  downcast  eyes  and  flushed  face,  mak¬ 
ing  no  endeavor  to  release  herself.  v 

“Sweetheart,”  he  whispered  again,  “look  at  mel 
Have  I  frightened  you?  Forgive  me-!  The  strength 
of  my  love  is  so  great  that  I  can  control  it  no  longer  1 
Have  you  not  seen  how  it  was  with  me?  Could  you 
not  read  all  the  struggle  in  my  heart?  Ah,  Carroll, 
speak  to  me !” 

She  lifted  her  eyes,  a  smile  of  heavenly  happiness 
in  their  depths. 

“What  is  there  to  say?”  she  asked. 

“That  you  love  me!” 

“Would  you  know  it  better  then  than  now?  Can 
you  not  feel  it?” 

Hilliard  smiled — a  little,  staggering  sort  of  effort. 

“I  want  to  hear  you  say  it,”  he  answered,  tenderly. 
“I  want  to  know  it  from  your  lips.  My  darling — Gar- 


16 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


ling,  if  3'ou  knew  how  my  love  has  mastered  me !  It  is 
the  one  thought  of  my  heart — the  strongest  emotion 
of  my  soul!  Carroll,  answer  me!” 

She  lifted  herself  in  his  arms  just  a  trifle,  and 
smiled  up  at  him  with  almost  delirious  ecstacy. 

“You  want  my  lips  to  speak  the  words  that  my 
heart  has  said  to  you  a  thousand  times?”  she  ques¬ 
tioned,  happily.  “I  love  you!  Is  it  enough?” 

“Yes,  if  love  means  to  you  what  it  does  to  me.  I 
have  never  loved  before,  and  I  have  loved  much 
longer  than  you.  Oh,  dearest  heart!  there  is  such 
sweetness,  such  joy  in  holding  you  in  my  arms  and 
knowing  that  your  life  is  mine !” 

“And  it  is — all  yours!” 

He  bent  his  head  and  kissed  her — a  long,  passion¬ 
ate  embrace  that  contained  nothing  of  impurity,  noth¬ 
ing  that  could  tarnish  her  perfect  chastity. 

L  He  was  striving  to  control  his  emotion  as  much  as 
possible,  lest  he  alarm  her;  but  it  required  a  tre¬ 
mendous  effort.  His  entire  self  seemed  submerged  in 
the  overwhelming  desire  to  have  her  for  his  own. 
Great  passions  come  to  great  natures  suddenly,  and 
his  left  no  room  for  any  other  thought. 

For  some  time  there  was  silence  between  them, 
when  each  seemed  listening  to  the  beat  of  the  other’s 
heart;  then,  with  his  lips  upon  her  own,  Hilliard  whis¬ 
pered  : 

“When  will  you  be  my  wife,  my  own?” 

“Not  yet,”  she  answered.  “You  must  wait.  Not 
long,  you  know ;  but  until  my  mother  is  better.” 

“It  must  be  soon.  There  are  so  many  things  that 
1  have  to  tell  you;  but  just  at  first  I  want  to  feet  the 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  1Z 

sweetness  of  you  life  without  thinking  of  the  past. 
You  trust  me,  do  you  not,  Carroll  ?” 

“Absolutely  I” 

“And  yet  there  are  some  things  in  my  life  which 
you  must  know — some  things  which  you  must  hear 
from  me  alone.  If  I  could  only  make  my  life  a  clean 
page  like  yours,  for  your  sake,  my  love,  I  should  be 
so  glad — so  glad !” 

“I  am  satisfied  with  you  as  you  are.  If  you  were 
different  in  one  thing  my  love  would  of  necessity  be 
less.  Oh,  how  can  you,  so  great,  so  grand,  care  for 
an  insignificant  creature  such  as  I?” 

“There  is  no  woman  under  God’s  sun  to  compare 
with  you.  Your  beauty  never  has  and  never  will  be 
reproduced.  Your  purity  is  as  great  as  that  of  an 
angel.  Your  soul  is  that  of  an  artist.  Does  mortality 
go  beyond  that?  Dearest  love,  if  I  were  but  worthy 
of  you  my  happiness  would  be  too  complete ! ” 

“Hush!  I  am  half  afraid  of  my  own  joy.  There 
has  been  so  little  of  sunshine  in  my  life  that  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  cloud  must  come  while  I  am  basking 
in  the  delicious  warmth.  I  have  felt  that  you  cared, 
yet  I  dared  not  frame  the  thought.” 

“You  are  the  one  and  only  love  of  my  life,  my  own; 
yet  there  are  things  that  you  must  know.” 

“No.  I  am  more  than  satisfied  with  that.  Let  the 
rest  go.  What  is  your  past  to  me?  It  is  the  future 
that  is  mine  and  God’s.” 

He  kissed  her  once  again  with  reverent  devotion. 

“And  God  deal  with  me  according  to  my  fidelity 
to  you!”  he  said,  slowly,  the  flush  of  ideal  passion 
upon  his  cheek. 


18 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  III. 


Three  months  lay  in  the  dead  past,  for  Happiness 
and  beauty  and  love  must  die,  even  as  misery  and 
hatred  are  included  in  dissolution.  The  months  lay, 
dead,  yet  unburied,  still  held  under  the  caress  of  mem¬ 
ory.  <••! 

How  happy  those  two  were,  Carroll  and  Ballard 
Hilliard!  Life  was  like  che  sun  in  the  middle-da); 
sky  to  them.  They  saw  nothing  but  each  other, 
heard  nothing  but  each  other,  wanted  nothing  but 
each  other.  They  spoke  to  each  other  in  sighs,  in 
glances  and  caresses.  They  adored  each  other,  con¬ 
tent  in  silence. 

The  portrait  progressed  slowly.  To  Hilliard,  Car- 
roll  seemed  to  grow  more  beautiful  with  each  hour, 
and  where  at  first  he  had  been  satisfied  with  his  work 
he  now  found  flaw's — defects  that  no  care  or  pains 
could  erase. 

“You  are  too  beautiful  for  any  but  a  god  to  paint, 
my  little  princess!”  he  said  to  her  often.  “I  must 
give  it  up.  If  you  were  dead,  and  I  saw  you  only  by 
the  light  of  memory,  I  could  do  it  then,  and  the  world 
would  call  me  famous,  but  never  while  you  are  before 
me.  I  see  too  clearly  then  how  short  I  fall  of  the  per¬ 
fection  of  the  original,  and  the  failure  disheartens  me. 
I  must  be  satisfied  with  the  possession  of  the  fairest 
flower  of  the  universe,  even  if  I  can  not  make  it  live 
for  future  ages.” 

But  still  the  sittings  continued.  Each  day  lie 
scarcely  seemed  to  live  until  he  heard  her  well-known 
tap  upon  the  door;  then  heaven  opened. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


19 


"When  are  these  partings  to  end,  my  little  prin¬ 
cess?”  he  said  to  her  one  day  as  she  was  leaving  him. 
".When  are  you  to  become  my  wife  before  all  the 
world  ?” 

"Scon,  Ballard,”  she  answered,  with  that  upward 
glance  that  expressed  her  love  so  well.  "Not  quite 
yet.  I  am  foolish,  but  the  thought  of  change  hurts 
me.  Wait  until  my  mother  is  better.  Then,  dear 
heart—  Shall  we  be  so  happy — after!” 

‘  "Does  it  make  you  happy  to  go  from  me?  It  will 
be  an  eternal  union !” 

She  looked  at  him  without  replying.  There  was  a 
long  caress,  so  deep,  so  tender,  so  true.  What  is 
there  left  in  life  to  one  who  has  tasted  so  much  of 

bliss  ? 

She  went  out  into  the  early  gloaming  of  that  still 
September  day,  her  heart  light  under  its  flutterings  of 
love.  There  was  a  song  in  her  soul — a  song  of  g\  ati- 
tude  to  God  for  the  richness  of  his  blessing.  She 
noticed  nothing  of  the  busy,  bustling  world  about  her. 
She  paid  no  heed  to  where  she  was  going,  but  walked 
more  by  instinct — from  habit — than  from  any  sight 
that  directed  her.  Her  thoughts  were  filled  with  him 
whom  she  had  left  behind.  When  she  came  to  their 
poor  home  she  paused  and  sighed. 

Was  not  there  something  in  contrast?  Would  life 
be  the  same  to  her  when  she  had  left  that  wretched 
place  forever?  At  least  there  was  happiness  with 
Ballard  Hilliard,  wherever  she  might  be.  Comforted 
by  that  thought,  she  mounted  the  long,  steep  flight 
of  stairs  and  very  softly  opened  the  door. 

Instead  of  the  pale  face  of  her  mother  that  had 
always  greeted  her,  she  was  met  bv  a  lady  charm- 


20 


A  LiTTLE  PRINCESS 


ingly  though  simply  attired,  her  pure,  noble,  high¬ 
bred  face  wearing  an  anxious  look.  She  had  removed 
her  hat  and  gloves  the  jewels  upon  her  hands  looking 
strangely  out  of  place  in  that  poorly  furnished  room. 

“You,  Miss  Kingman — and  at  this  hour!”  exclaimed 
Carroll,  her  face  growing  pale  under  an  intangible 
fear.  “Has  anything  happened?” 

Before  replying,  Geraldine  Kingman  took  the  beau- ' 
tiful  face  between  her  hands  and  kissed  it.  I 

“I  hope  nothing  serious,  Mignonne,”  she  answered, 
gently.  “I  called  to-day  to  see  your  mother,  know¬ 
ing  that  she  had  not  been  well  of  late,  and  I  found 
her  more  ill  than  I  thought.  I  persuaded  her  to  go 
to  bed  and  summoned  a  doctor.” 

“And  now?”  gasped  Carroll. 

“She  has  not  been  well,  you  know.  The  doctor 
says — ” 

“What?” 

“Don’t  be  frightened,  Mignonne.  It  is  so  difficult 
to  tell  in  these  early  stages,  and  he  may  be  mistaken 
after  all.” 

“But  he  said — ” 

“  Something  about — small-pox.” 

“My  God!” 

The  girl  staggered  back;  but  the  tender  arms  of 
the  woman  of  society  supported  her,  leading  her  to 
a  chair  near  by. 

“You  need  your  strength,  dear  child;  and  she  needs 
you,  too.  She  has  called  for  you  so  often — so  often 
during  the  last  two  hours.” 

Carroll  colored  painfully  as  she  remembered  where 
she  had  been,  forgetful  of  all  save  her  own  selfish 


LITTLE  PRINCESS  31 

joy,  her  own  boundless  love.  Then  the  thought  of 
Miss  Kingman's  danger  came  to  her. 

"Great  heavens l”  she  cried,  starting  up  in  wild 
horror;  "you  should  not  be  here.  Oh!  why  have 
you  remained?  Why  did  you  not  go  when  he  told 

I  you  the  hideousness  of  it  all?  Have  you  forgotten? 
Don’t  you  remember  the  frightful — ” 

She  seemed  unable  to  continue,  and  Miss  King- 
man  smiled. 

"I  am  not  afraid,  dearest,”  she  said,  soothingly, 
"If  one’s  friends  think  of  self  in  moments  like  this, 
where  would  the  charity  of  the  world  be?  The  terrible 
epidemic  is  raging,  Carroll;  you  will  not,  therefore, 
find  many  that  will  stand  by  you  now.  Every  one 
is  afraid.  You  must  not  let  any  one  suspect  in  the 
house.  We  are  doing  everything  possible  to  prevent 
the  disease  getting  through  the  house  in  the  event  of 
its  proving  what  we  fear.  You  understand?  I  have 
persuaded  the  doctor  that  it  will  not  be  necessary  to 
send  her  away  until — until  we  know  beyond  a  doubt.” 
"Away!  Where?” 

"There  are  places,  you  know — <” 

"You  mean  the  pest-house?” 

;  Miss  Kingman  did  not  reply, 
i  "Great — ” 

!  "Hush!”  she  whispered.  "Did  I  not  tell  you  that 
I  had  persuaded  the  doctor  not  to  send  her?” 

J  "Not  until  he  knows !” 

"But  he  will  never  know  until  she  is  well,  or — - 
Carroll,  you  are  very  beautiful,  child.  Would  you — ” 
But  the  girl  seemed  to  divine  what  her  friend,  or 
more  than  friend,  would  say,  and  with  a  gesture  of 
horror  she  put  out  her  hand. 


22 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“Don’t  say  it!”  she  cried.  “Don’t  think  me  so 
vik!  Have  I  been  neglectful  of  her?  Forgive  me 
— forgive  me!  I  love  her — oh,  how  I  love  her!  It 
will  kill  me  if — ”  j 

“But  it  won’t  come  to  that!”  interrupted  Miss 
Kingman.  “  We  won’t  allow  it  to  come  to  that.  1 
am  going  to  remain,  you  know-all  the  time,  you 
uaderstand.  We  will  nurse  her,  you  and  I,  night 
and  day.  We  will  save  her;  and  after  that  her  health 
will  be  better  than  ever,  for  it  clears  the  system,  this 
disease,  and  after  it  one  is  always  so  well.” 

As  she  listened  to  the  kind  voice  trying  to  cheer; 
her,  Carroll’s  courage  gave  way,  and  leaning  her 
head  upon  her  friend’s  shoulder,  she  burst  into  bitter 
tears. 

“You  are  the  best  friend  a  woman  ever  had,”  she 
said  to  Geraldine,  when  her  tears  had  ceased  to  flow. 
“One  would  know  how  to  give  up  life— more  than 
that — love,  for  you.  Some  time  I  shall  find  a  way  to 
repay  you.” 

Then  she  went  to  her  mother. 

The  next  morning  she  got  a  boy  to  take  a  note  to 
■Ballard  Hilliard.  It  was  brief. 

“Love, — Do  not  expect  me  until  you  hear  again. 
My  mother  is  ill — dying,  perhaps.  I  dare  not  tell 
even  you  what  is  wrong.  Do  not  come.  I  do  not 
ask,  but  command  it.  Trust  me.  With  my  heart, 
“  Y our  own  Carroll.  ” 

And  then  these  two — the  society  queen  and  the 
flower-girl — went  on  with  their  work,  nursing  that 
frail  form  back  to  life  again.  And,  ah,  what  weary 
work  it  w'as  S  As  they  knelt  beside  the  bed  one  night. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  23 

watching  the  poor  face,  Carroll  took  the  noble  one 
of  her  friend  between  her  hands. 

“Think”- — she  exclaimed,  with  dull  anguish — “think 
of  your  face  being  like  that!  Think  of  the  hideous 
mark  each  one  of  those  awful  pustules  will  leave. 
Have  you  no  thought  of  self?  Are  you  an  angel?” 

Miss  Kingman  smiled. 

“Only  a  woman,”  she  answered,  gently .  “Is  not 
that  enough?  Must  a  woman  be  always  a  vain  cow¬ 
ard?  Dearest  little  one,  I  told  you  once  that  if  you 
ever  needed  a  friend  you  should  call  upon  me.  You 
see,  I  found  it  out  for  myself,  and  the  friend  is  here.” 

“God  bless  her!” 

?  And  so  the  days  lengthened  and  vanished,  a  week 
came  and  went;  then  the  doctors  told  them  one  morn¬ 
ing  that  Mrs.  Millbourne  would  live.  It  came  almost 
with  a  greater  shock  to  Carroll  than  had  the  knowledge 
of  her  illness,  for  she  had  almost  despaired;  but 
when  she  could  choke  her  heart  into  subjection  she 
turned,  with  the  tears  streaming  over  her  face,  and 
threw  her  arms  about  Miss  Kingman’s  neck. 

“What  do  I  not  owe  you?”  she  cried.  “You  have 
saved  her — my  dear,  dear  mother!  I  owe  her  life 
to  you — it  is  worth  more  than  mine,  much  more. 
[Without  you  I  could  have  done  nothing — nothing! 
Thank  God,  thank  you — my  noble,  noblest  friend !” 


Chapter  IV. 


They  were  seated  in  the  conservatory,  beautifully, 
artistically  filled  with  tropical  plants,  those  two — 


24 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Carroll  Melbourne  and  Geraldine  Kingman.  1*  was 
the  home  of  the  latter,  magnificent  in  its  combina¬ 
tions  of  modern  comfort  and  antique  loveliness — a 
fit  setting  for  a  gem  so  rare  as  Geraldine  Kingman. 

She  was  not  beautiful,  in  so  far  as  regularity  of 
[feature  constitutes  beauty;  but  there  was  a  grace 
of  carriage,  a  nobility  of  bearing,  a  grande-dame 
manner  that  far  surpassed  all  that.  She  was  as 
generous  as  nature,  as  true  as  death,  and  there  was 
something  about  her  that  seemed  to  tell  it  to  you  in 
a  language  that  was  unmistakable.  To  Carroll  she 
combined  all  the  virtues  with  none  of  the  vices  of 
the  goddesses  of  old.  She  worshipped  her.  She  felt 
herself  capable  of  any  heroic  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of 
her  friend,  and  Geraldine  Kingman,  the  darling  of 
society,  returned  the  flower-girl’s  affection. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Carroll  had  left  her  mother 
after  the  long  and  painful  illness  that  had  confined 
her  for  so  tedious  a  time,  and  a  smile  of  hope  and 
happiness  rested  upon  the  charming  lips  that  Miss 
Kingman  kissed. 

“It  seemed  as  if  she  were  really  well,  to  see  you 
little  one,”  Miss  Kingman  said,  tenderly.  “It  was 
good  of  you  to  come  to  me  first,  Mignonne.” 

“And  where  should  I  have  gone  first  if  not  to  you?” 
asked  Carroll,  pressing  the  hand  she  held,  while  long- 
repressed  tears  filled  her  eyes.  “What  friend  have 
I  so  good,  so  true  as  you?  Did  ever  a  woman  live 
so  self-forgetful,  so  noble,  so — ” 

“There — there!”  interrupted  Miss  Kingman,  with 
a  light,  happy  laugh.  “Why,  you  would  make  me 
so  vain,  child,  that  my  closest  friend  would  find  dis¬ 
gust  for  me  instead  of  affection.” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


25 


*1  should  like  to  tell  the  whole  world  what  you 
have  done  for  me  !” 

“And  I  should  be  bitterly  offended  if  you  should. 
I  have  no  desire  to  pose  as  a  heroine,  Carroll.  I  am 
a  very  happy  woman,  little  one,  and  it  is  my  great¬ 
est  pleasure  to  show  my  gratitude  to  God  for  Kis 
goodness  to  me,  who  deserves  it  so  little,  by  any  work 
that  comes  in  my  way,  by  any  little  deed  of  kindness 
to  a  fellow-creature.  I  don't  want  thanks.  I  don’t 
want  advertisement  to  the  world.  I  only  desire  the 
approval  of  my  own  conscience,  which  contains  the 
approbation  of  Heaven.  Do  you  think  that  the  bravos 
of  the  world  could  make  me  happier  than  I  am?” 

Carroll  glanced  about  her  admiringly. 

“You  have  everything  to  make  life  beautiful/’  she 
said,  softly. 

An  expression  such  as  she  had  never  seen  upon  it 
before  crossed  Miss  Kingman’s  face.  It  seemed  to 
be  illuminated  with*  a  holy,  a  divine  love,  such  as 
dawns  but  once '  in  life,  and  hovers  then  upon  the 
soul  but  a  moment,  too  dear  and  too  sweet  even  to  be 
held  by  the  breath  of  the  heart. 

“And  yet  you  see  so  little  of  what  I  really  have,” 
she  answered,  a  tender  throb  in  her  voice.  “Ah,  if 
I  could  only  tell  you !  Did  you  ever  realize,  Carroll, 
that  there  is  something  in  life  that  goes  beyond  ex¬ 
pression?  Did  you  ever  think  that  there  is  one  emo¬ 
tion  in  life  that  the  tenderest  word  will  wound?  Ah, 
child,  you  will  never  have  lived  until  you  have  loved  V' 

Carroll  dropped  upon  her  knees,  her  hands  hold¬ 
ing  those  that  rested  upon  Miss  Kingman’s  lap,  her 
glowing  eyes  raised. 

“And  you  have  loved  like  that?”  she  whispered. 


26 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“Like  what?  Have  I  said  anything — expressed 
anything?  How  little  it  was;  how  short  of  the  real¬ 
ity!  Surely  there  must  be  some  word  beyond  love 
to  express  it!  It  is  so  weak,  so  impotent!  And  yet 
there  can  be  none,  for  God  is  love,  and  there  is  nothing 
beyond  Him.  But  you  can’t  understand,  and  I  can’t 
explain.  He  is  a  god — so  handsome,  so  chivalrous, 
so  noble !  I  wish  I  could  tell  you.  But  there  are  no 
words.  I  seem  to  be  like  a  tiny  child  .groping  in  the 
wilderness  of  its  little  heart  for  a  word  that  it  has 
never  learned  to  utter  to  express  a  thought  that  is 
pressing  upon  its  tender  soul.  Ah,  love  is  my  heart, 
my  soul!  Carroll,  listen.  Can  you  realize  what  it  is 
to  love  so  that  one  would  die  if  denied  the  love  that  has 
become  more  than  life?” 

She  was  looking  at  the  girl  at  her  feet  so  earnestly, 
so  scrutinizingly  that  the  lovely  face  fell. 

Could  she,  Carroll  Millbourne,  understand  a  life 
like  that — she  who  had  known  Ballard  Hilliard  ?  She 
almost  laughed  aloud  at  the  thought.  Then,  very 
slowly,  she  lifted  her  head  until  her  lips  touched  those 
of  her  friend. 

“I  can  understand,”  she  whispered,  “for  I  too  love 
and  am  loved !” 

A  close,  warm  embrace  followed;  then  Carroll  sat 
there  upon  the  floor  with  her  exquisite  reddish-gold 
head  upon  Miss  Kingman’s  knee,  the  long,  slim 
fingers  of  the  woman  of  fashion  flashing  in  and  out  of 
the  sunny  rings.  There  was  a  dreamy  smile  upon  the 
lips  of  each.  They  spoke  little.  There  seemed  to 
be  nothing  to  say.  Then  Miss  Kingman  leaned  over 
and  touched  her  friend’s  cheek. 

“And  this  man  who  has  won  your  heart,”  she  said. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

softly — “what  of  him,  my  little  Carroll?  Does  he 
love  you  as  you  deserve  ?” 

“More !  He  adores  me  as  I  worship  him.” 

“How  happy  we  both  are!  God  bless  you,  dear. 
And  we  love  each  other,  do  we  not,  Carroll  ?” 

“So  much!”  answered  the  girl,  looking  up  con¬ 
tentedly.  “You  gave  me  my  mother's  life,  and  be¬ 
sides  that  there  is  a  band  of  sympathy  between  us 
now  that  no  time  can  ever  destroy.  If  I  were  sure 
of  the  granting  of  any  favor  that  I  should  ask  of 
God  it  would  be  that  He  should  give  me  some  way 
to  prove  my  devotion  to  you,  my  more  than  friend. 
Don't  tell  me  that  it  is  foolish.  I  know  it  but  too 
well.  Yet  there  is  something  in  my  heart  that  tells 
me — ” 

“What?” 

“I  don't  know.  I  can't  quite  understand.  But 
it  is  coming,  coming!  Dearest,  kiss  me  once  again.” 

When  the  head  was  raised  from  the  requested 
caress,  a  servant  stood  there. 

“A  gentleman  is  in  the  drawing-room,  Miss  King- 
man,”  she  said,  quietly. 

Then,  when  she  had  gone  Geraldine  sprung  up.  The 
matronliness  had  left  her  face.  She  was  suddenly 
the  blushing,  thrilling  girl  aware  of  the  presence  of 
her  lover.  She  pressed  another  quick  kiss  upon  Car- 
roll's  brow. 

“It  is  he,”  she  whispered — “he  of  whom  I  told  y6u! 
Wait  for  me  here.  He  never  remains  long  when  he 
calls  at  this  hour.  He  is  a  great  artist,  Carroll,  and 
fais  work  divides  his  heart  with  me.”  ] 

She  was  gone  before  Carroll  could  reply;  but  the 


28 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


girl  sat  still  upon  the  floor,  looking  after  her  with 
that  same  lazy,  tender  smile. 

“A  gteat  artist !”  she  whispered  to  herself.  “I 
wonder  what  he  is  like?  Oh,  he  ought  to  be  a  wonder¬ 
ful  man  that  could  win  a  heart  like  hers  \  How 
good  and  great  of  soul  she  is!  I  should  like  to  see 
what  manner  of  man  could  win  such  love  from  a 
woman  like  Geraldine  Kingman.  I  wonder  if  he  too 
paints  portraits,  or  if  he  only  does  animals  or  land¬ 
scapes?  I  should  like  to  see  him.  I  wonder  if  there 
would  be  any  harm  in  my  just  taking  a  single  glance 
at  him?  I  am  sure -she  would  not  mind,  or  she  would 
not  have  told  me  of  her  love.  I  should  be  so  proud 
to  have  her  see  Ballard,  and  I  am  quite  sure —  Just 
one  little  glance.  Dear  Miss  Kingman!  How  much 
J  owe  her,  and  how  much  I  love  her !” 

She  crept  up  and  advanced  noiselessly.  The  con¬ 
servatory  was  separated  from  the  drawing-room  by 
a  small  reception-room  and  a  heavy  portiere .  Silently 
she  stepped  through.  The  portiere  was  drawn  a  trifle 
aside.  Miss  Kingman  had  evidently  stopped  for 
something  on  the  way,  for  she  was  just  entering  the 
room  from  an  opposite  door.  A  tall  manly  form  rose 
to  greet  her.  Carroll  saw  only  the  back,  yet  her  heart 
seemed  to  cease  its  beating. 

With  graceful  step  he  went  forward.  The  sweet, 
blushing  face  was  raised  for  the  kiss  that  fell  only 
upon  the  brow. 

Ah !  surely,  dear  God,  that  was  not  the  kiss  of  a 
lover !  A  brother  might  have  implanted  it  there,  but 
never  the  man  to  whose  keeping  a  girl  has  given  her 
very  souk 

Carroll  had  grown  white  as  death.  Her  limbs  were 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


29 


rigid.  She  tried  to  move,  but  she  seemed  chained 
to  the  spot.  She  would  have  fled,  if  only  the  power 
had  been  given  her,  from — she  knew  not  what.  But 
she  could  not.  Every  drop  of  blood  in  her  veins 
seemed  stagnated,  yet  her  senses  were  peculiarly 
alive. 

She  saw  with  horror  the  same  deathless  ador- 
tion  that  had  gleamed  in  those  pure  eyes  a  few  brief 
moments  before — that  devotion  that  had  filled  her 
with  admiration,  yet  now  paralyzed  her  with  terror. 
Then  the  two  turned. 

Her  very  soul  died  in  that  instant.  What  kept 
back  the  mad  anguish  that  burst  through  every  fiber 
of  her  being?  What  prevented  the  wild  groan  of  the 
broken  heart?  What  hushed  the  death-gurgle  in  the 
throat  of  love?  Only  God  knew. 

She  stood  there  motionless  as  a  statue,  dead  to 
every  sensation  that  the  human  breast  can  know.  For 
the  man  before  her  was  Ballard  Hilliard! 

In  those  words  lay  the  death-warrant — nor  that 
alone;  it  was  the  crucifixion  of  a  heart.  She  felt  it 
die  as  emotion  died.  Then  very  slowly  she  turned, 
stricken  dumb  and  blind,  and  turned  and  crept  away. 

She  felt  nothing,  thought  nothing.  She  was  dead 
and  the  world  was  dead,  and  even  God  had  died  when 
the  warmth  had  left  the  sun. 

It  was  Ballard  Hilliard  whom  Geraldine  Kingman 
loved — whom  Geraldine  Kingman  had  said  was  more 
to  her  than  her  life!  And  what  was  it  that  Geraldine 
Kingman  was  to  her?  She  had  forgotten. 

There  was  no  hat  upon  her  head,  no  scarf  about 


30 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


her  throat  as  she  crept  from  the  house.  She  had 
forgotten. 

But  suddenly — what  was  it?  Has  a  thought  power 
to  lift  dissolution  ? — something  penetrated  through  the 
awful  density  upon  her  brain — a  remembrance  so  hor¬ 
rible  that  it  seemed  to  set  her  flesh  on  fire.  She  put 
her  hands  up  to  her  poor  ghastly  face;  but  the  hide¬ 
ousness  of  her  terror  was  too  great  even  to  admit  a 
groan.  How  dared  she  face  that  awful  knowledge? 
She  had  known  it  herself  less  than  a  wreek.  She  had 
meant  to  tell  him  that  very  day — he  who  would  so 
soon  have  been  her  husband :  yet  now7 — God  of 
heaven !  what  was  she  to  do  ? 

The  river  seemed  the  only  haven  open  to  her. 
[Would  not  Heaven  find  an  excuse  for  her  in  the 
burden  that  had  so  suddenly — oh,  God!  how  piteously 
suddep! — grown  too  heavy  for  her  to  bear? 

The  knowledge  that  her  friend  loved  him  was  surely 
enough;  but  this  other  thing — this  hideous  secret 
that  now  she  dared  not  tell,  weighed  upon  her  soul 
with  a  heaviness  greater  than  death! 


Chapter  V. 


No  thought  of  blame  or  censure  entered  Carroll’s 
heart  toward  the  man  whom  she  loved. 

She  seemed,  with  that  intuitive  perception  which 
is  a  woman’s  dower  right,  to  understand  without  a 
syllable  of  explanation  the  situation  in  which  Bal¬ 
lard  Hilliard  was  placed,  but  the  comprehension 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


31] 


helped  her  extremity  not  in  the  least*  The  circum* 
stances  which  surrounded  her  were,  to  a  woman  of 
her  natural  refinement  of  birth  and  breeding — for  no 
poverty  can  alienate  inborn  mental  delicacy — a  source 
of  anguish  too  great  for  either  words  or  thought. 
She  knew  that  something  must  be  done.  But  what 
4  — but  what  ?  | 

The  day  was  deliciously  warm,  fanned  by  a  breeze 
that  was  balmy  as  spring.  A  curious  indolence 
seemed  to  rest  over  nature  that  imparted  a  feeling  to 
her  sensitive  soul  which  she  could  not  have  analyzed 
even  had  she  tried.  t 

The  leaves  in  the  park  were  turning  to  crimson  and 
gold,,  and  through  them  she  walked  onward,  down 
to  the  lake  that  rippled  so  silently  and  peacefully  on 
its  monotonous  way.  She  sat  down,  hidden  by  the 
still  thick  foliage  of  the  shrubbery,  and  lifted  hen 
aching  eyes  to  the  clear  blue  of  the  sky. 

The  frightful  pain  of  that  awakening  thought  was 
still  stabbing  through  the  paralysis  upon  her  brain 
and  heart  with  hideous  insistence.  What  was  she 
to  do  ?  She  asked  the  question  of  God,  yet  the  voice 
of  Heaven  was  silent.  * 

Was  she  suffering  for  sin  committed?  Who  shall 
answer  ?  I 

She  knew  that  Ballard  Hilliard  would  marry  her  if 
she  would  permit  it ;  but  then  what  of  Geraldine 
Kingman,  that  woman  to  whom  she  owed  more  than 
her  life? 

"I  can’t!  I  can’t!”  she  groaned  at  last  to  that 
voiceless  sun  that  answers  but  the  command  of  God. 
“Lord,  I  have  prayed  for  some  way  to  show  her  mjr 


32 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


gratitude.  Is  this  the  answer  to  my  prayer?  Whati 
right  have  I  to  take  from  her  her  lover?  He  was 
hers  before  he  was  mine.  .Oh,  Father  in  heaven,  help 
me!  Am  I  to  give  my  honor  in  exchange  for  my. 
mother’s  life?  Am  I?  It  is  too  bitter!  Yet  the  sin, | 
the  shame  is  mine  already.  It  was  hidden  from  me" 
then  under  the  greatness  of  my  love,  but  I  see  it  now; 
cruelly  clear.  Shall  I  save  myself  at  the  cost  of  the 
happiness  of  the  noble  woman  who  risked  more  than 
her  life  for  me  and  mine?  Never!  At  any  cost — at 
any  cost  I  shall  do  my  duty!  God  help  me  to  be 
brave!”  t 

She  bowed  her  head  and  groaned,  such  a  groan  as 
would  have  touched  the  heart. of  a  satyr.  No  tears 
came  to  relieve  her.  She  fought  out  her  horrible  bat¬ 
tle,  with  the  lake,  the  sun,  and  the  silent  face  of 
heaven  to  witness — fought  her  battle  to  victory;  but 
the  field  was  marked  with  the  blood-stain  of  a  dead 
heart.  You  who  are  mothers  can  best  understand. 

Then  she  rose,  her  numb,  stiff  limbs  feeling  like 
wooden  things  beneath  her,  and  walked  slowly  out 
of  the  park.  Her  poor  white  face  was  set  and  piti¬ 
ful,  but  as  emotionless  as  cold,  pale  snow.  .With 
mechanical  correctness  she  hailed  a  car,  got  in,  paidg 
her  fare,  and  rode  down-town.  People  looked  at  herg 
curiously,  for  she  was  hatless,  and  there  was  a  lookf 
upon  her  face  that  riveted  attention;  but  she  appar-j 
ently  saw  nothing.  She  got  out  of  the  car  at  the 
proper  crossing  and  entered  the  hotel  where  Ballard 
Hilliard  had  his  studio. 

She  entered  the  hall  and  passed  silently  down  to¬ 
ward  the  door  of  the  room  where  she  had  been  so 
madly  happy,  almost  forgetful  of  those  old  days  in 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


33 


the  dear,  dead  past,  so  curiously  close,  yet  so  strangely; 
<ong  ago.  She  heard  his  voice  singing,  that  rich,  full 
fearytone  that  she  had  so  admired  in  the  days  that 
were  dead,  and  paused  until  he  had  finished : 

"I  need  tro  stars  in  heaven  to  guide  me, 

I  need  no  sun  or  moon  to  shine, 

While  I  have  you,  sweetheart,  beside  me, 

While  I  know  that  thou  art  mine.” 

There  was  not  a  sob  in  her  throat,  not  a  tear 
dimmed  her  eye  as  she  heard  the  little  love  song,  know* 
ing  so  well  that  it  was  cf  her  he  was  thinking  and 
without  a  knock  she  opened  the  door  and  entered. 

He  was  sitting  before  the  easel  and  did  not  hear 
her  until  she  stood  beside  him;  then  he  threw  down 
his  maul-stick  and  sprung  up. 

“How  long  you  have  been  away,  love!”  he  cried. 

And  then  he  saw  her  face. 

A  little,  quickly  strangled  cry  escaped  him.  He 
grew  white  to  the  lips  and  staggered  back  without 
touching  her. 

“Carroll!”  he  whispered. 

She  did  not  reply.  He  caught  the  back  of  the  chair 
for  support,  and  after  a  moment  recovered  himself. 

“Carroll,”  he  repeated,  “what  has  happened?  Your 
mother™” 

“Is  wTell,”  she  answered,  wearily,  raising  her  hand 
to  lift  the  little  damp  curl  from  her  brow. 

“But  you?  What  in  Heaven’s  name  has  happened? 
Speak  to  me !  I  am — frightened.” 

“What  shall  I  say?”  she  questioned,  slowly.  “Whaf 
is  there  that  one  can  say?  What  has  happened?  i 


8$  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

ft  #  . 

Son’t  know  I  That  is— I  don’t  know  at  all!  I  hav3 
pome  to  say  good-bye  to  you,  Ballard.” 

“Good-bye  ?”  - 

‘‘Yes — eternally!”  f 

He  looked  silently  at  her  for  a  moment,  as  if  doubt¬ 
ing  her  sanity;  but  there  was  too  much  still  death  iti 
her  eyes  for  him  to  think  of  that. 

“What  is  it  that  you  mean?”  he  asked,  Hoarsely, 
“I  don’t  seem  to  understand.  Am  I  dreaming,  or  are 
you  mad?” 

“Would  to  God  it  were  one  of  the  two,”  she  an-, 
iwered,  in  a  passionless  way;  “but  it  is  neither.” 

“You  wish  me  to  understand  that  our  love  is  at  att 
end?” 

“Our  sin,  Ballard.” 

“Sin?” 

“Oh,  don’t!  It  is  so  hard.  Bear,  don’t  think  I 
’doubt  you!  To  doubt  Heaven  would  be  as  possible 
as  that.  Ballard,  Ballard,  why  did  you  not  tell  me, 
darling?  Why  did  you  not  let  me  know  before?” 

There  was  no  emotion  in  her  questions.  It  would 
have  been  a  thousand  times  easier  if  there  had  been. 

He  shivered.  » 

“Speak  out,  for  God’s  sake!”  he  cried,  heavily. I 
“What  is  it  that  you  mean?”  | 

“About  Geraldine  Kingman!”  she  answered  slowly.' 

A  crimson  flush  crossed  cheek  and  brow,  yet  there 
was  an  expression  of  intense  relief  in  his  countenance. 

“  i  have  been  a  great  coward,  Carroll,”  he  returned, 
in  a  shamed  voice.  “Desire  to  avoid  giving  pain  has 
always  been  the  weakness  of  my  character;  but  you 
will  forgive  me  that,  will  you  not,  my  little  princess? 

I  will  po  at  once  and — ” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


35 


She  stopped  him  with  a  gesture. 

“There  is  no  forgiveness  between  you  and  me,”  she 
said,  huskily.  “I  have  loved  you;  if  my  heart  were 
not  quite  dead  I  should  love  you  still  with  a  great! 
love  that  is  beyond  earth,  but  I  see  now  how  I  have 
sinned.  Do  you  know  what  punishment  Heaven  has 
Sent  me  for  that  sin  ?” 

|  She  paused,  looking  at  him  with  those  great,  blank 
eyes  that  bewildered  him.  He  dared  not  reply. 

“God  demands  that  I  give  you  up — that  I  see  you 
no  more.  Hush!” — as  he  was  about  to  speak— 
“Wait !  Do  you  know  who  came  to  us  when  we  were 
deserted  by  the  whole  world?  Geraldine  Kingman. 
Do  you  know  who  held  my  father’s  hand  and  soothed 
his  last  days  on  earth,  giving  him  the  comforts  that! 
our  poverty  would  have  denied  us  the  power  of 
doing  ?  Geraldine  Kingman.  Do  you  know  who  kept 
my  mother  from  the  poor-house  and  me  from  being  a 
beggar  ?  Geraldine  Kingman.  Do  you  know  to  whom 
I  owe  my  mother’s  life  in  this  last  terrible  affliction 
that  was  sent  upon  us  ?  Geraldine  Kingman.  Do  you 
know  to  whom  I  owe  the  fact  that  my  mother  does  not 
lie  in  Potter’s  Field  to-day,  sent  there  from  the  pest* 
house?  To  Geraldine  Kingman.”  3 

Her  voice  died  away  in  a  whisper.  Ballard  Hill¬ 
iard  had  grown  paler  and  paler  as  she  was  speaking. 
Fie  had  not  known  Carroll  all  these  long,  happy 
months  without  discovering  something  of  the  strength 
of  her  character,  and  as  she  continued,  the  whole 
situation  was  before  him  as  clearly  as  she  could  have 
put  it  by  the  loudest  lamentations. 

lie  knew  that  her  sense  of  duty,  mistaken  though 
it  might  be,  had  been  aroused,  and  he  knew  that  h4 
had  lost  her. 


36 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


He  could  not  have  spoken  if  his  life  had  depended 
upon  it.  There  was  a  silence  between  them  that  was 
horrible;  then,  with  a  long,  weary  sigh,  she  con¬ 
tinued  : 

“I  see  that  you  understand,  and  that  you  agree  with 
me  that  we  must  part.” 

;  “But  I  don’t!”  he  cried,  passionately.  “I  don’t 
and  I  never  shall!  She  is  good  and  noble,  it  is  true; 
but  why  should  that  fact  spoil  both  your  life  and 
mine  ?  I  do  not  love  her,  so  help  me  Heaven,  I  never 
have. 

;  “But  she  is  your  promised  wife.” 

“Through  no  fault  of  mine,  I  swear  it!  Listen, 
(Carroll — ” 

“Please  don’t!  It  is  so  useless — so  unutterably  use¬ 
less.  She  loves  you.  She  held  your  promise  before 
I  had  ever  seen  your  face.  That  I  should  have  stolen 
your  heart  from  her  is  the  very  greatest  wrong  that 
1  could  have  committed;  but  I  shall  wrong  her  no 
further.  Oh!  do  you  think  I  have  not  thought  it  all 
out?  Do  you  think  that  I  have  not  suffered  until 
there  is  no  heart  left  in  my  body  to  suffer  more?” 
Great  God !  Ten  thousand  deaths  by  slowest  torture 
could  never  equal  the  anguish  that  I  have  endured! 
Do  not  make  me  suffer  more  than  I  have  Ballard! 
Say  farewell  to  me,  dear,  and  let  me  gol”  . 

“Never!”  j 

|  '“Then  I  must  go  without.” 

“I  shall  never  let  you!” 

She  held  up  her  hand,  and  by  the  expression  on  her 
face  he  knew  that  her  resolve  was  deathless. 

“You  must!”  she  exclaimed,  slowly.  “My  resolu¬ 
tion  is  taken,  and  nothing  can  move  nae.  It  is  my 
iluty,  the  atonement  that  I  must  make  for  my  sin.  If 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


37 


you  would  spare  me,  go  on  and  do  your  duty  to  her. 
It  is  the  single  demand  that  I  make  of  you  for  your 
part  in  the  great  wrong  that  has  been  done.  If  you 
have  any  love  in  your  heart  for  me  you  will  do  this 
for  my  sake.  It  is  the  only  thing  in  all  this  world  that 
can  bring  me  the  slightest  happiness.  You  see,  I  feel 
nothing.  My  heart  is  as  dead  as  that  face  that  lies  be¬ 
neath  your  brush  upon  the  senseless  canvas.  It  is  an 
eternal  farwell,  Ballard,  and  if  you  have  any  pity  you 
will  try  to  have  it  for  my  sake  !” 


Chapter  VI. 


Who  shall  describe  the  hideousness  of  the  death  in 
life  that  accompanies  a  broken  heart?  Surely  not  we 
who  have  seen  it  so  many  times  in  this  cruel  old  world 
— seen  it  in  the  beamless  eye,  heard  it  in  the  changeless 
sigh,  felt  it  in  the  cold,  emotionless  tones  of  the  once 
jcjyous,  care-free  voice. 

It  was  so  with  Carroll. 

Do  you  think  there  was  a  moment  in  the  day,  an 
hour  in  the  long,  bitter  night  when  she  could  close  her 
heart  to  the  knowledge  of  the  frightful  calamity  that 
had  come  into  her  life?  Weeks  wore  into  months 
until  three  had  fled ;  but  still  she  bore  it  helplessly — 
bore  it  with  a  shrinking  sorrow  that  was  piteous. 

The  letters  of  pleading  that  had  come  from  Ballard 
Hilliard  had  grown  too  painful  for  her  to  read,  and 
standing  as  she  did  in  fear  of  her  own  courage,  ir 
face  of  an  awful  grief  like  hers — of  a  hideous  secret 
that  weighed  down  her  very  soul,  she  dared  not  read 
them  longer,  but  put  them  aside  with  the  seal  un- 


38 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


broken.  She  did  not  try  to  conquer  her  love.  On  the 
contrary,  she  lived  upon  the  memory  of  it. 

She  avoided  Miss  Kingman  for  the  first  time  within 
her  remembrance,  making  an  excuse  whenever  she 
knew  that  her  old  friend  was  coming  to  the  house, 
and  as  the  weeks  went  by  it  seemed  to  her-  mother 
that  this  evident  fear  of  one  whom  she  had  so  loved 
had  become  almost  a  mania. 

“  Carroll,”  she  said  to  her  one  day,  very  gently, 
when  this  avoidance  had  become  a  trifle  more  marked 
than  usual,  “can  you  not  see  that  you  are  giving  pain 
to  the  woman  who  has  been  the  best  friend  we  have 
ever  known?  She  wants  very  much  that  you  should 
come  to  see  her.  Why  will  you  not?” 

A  spasm  of  pain  contracted  the  changed  but  still 
beautiful  face. 

“I  cannot!”  she  cried,  huskily.  “Don’t  ask  it!  I 
can  not !” 

The  sweet,  sad-eyed  woman  laid  aside  her  sewing, 
and  going  to  the  side  of  her  child  knelt  there,  wind¬ 
ing  her  arms  about  the  girl’s  waist. 

“Dearest,”  she  said,  gently,  “what  has  changed  you 
so  during  the  last  few  months?  You  are  not  like 
yourself  at  all.  Can  you  not  trust  your  mother?  I 
have  not  spoken  to  you  of  it,  hoping  against  hope  that 
you  would  come  to  me;  but  I  have  waited  until  I  can 
wait  no  longer.  The  silence  is  wearing  me  out.  Hour 
after  hour  I  have  lain  awake  at  night,  conscious  of  the 
suffering  you  were  enduring  so  silently,  and  it  has 
almost  broken  my  heart  that  you  would  not  let  me 
share  it.  Carroll,  am  I  so  little  a  part  of  your  life  that 
you  can  not  trust  me  with  your  grief? 

The  anguish  of  the  girl’s  eyes  was  startling. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


39 


She  endeavored  to  smile,  but  the  effort  was  so  palp¬ 
able — so  pitiable  a  failure — that  it  brought  tears  to  the 
eyes  of  the  faithful  mother. 

“ You  are  distressing  yourself  about  nothing,  dear¬ 
est,”  she  answered,  faintly.  “You  are  seeing  hobgob¬ 
lins  in  dusk  shadow's,  that  is  all.  You  have  been  ill 
for  so  long  that  it  has  affected  you  with  a  certain  kind 
of  melancholia.” 

“Do  you  think  you  can  deceive  me  like  that?  Do 
you  think  there  is  anything  that  you  can  conceal 
from  your  mother  ?”  cried  the  unhappy  woman,  draw¬ 
ing  back  from  her.  “Ah !  child,  it  is  something  worse 
than  I  first  thought  when  you  will  try  so  weak  a  de¬ 
ception  as  that.  Carroll,  what  it  is  ?” 

(  “Nothing!” 

“And  you  think  I  will  believe  you?  Do  you  think 
I  have  suffered  so  little  in  my  life  that  I  can  mistake 
it  in  another?  And  most  particularly  when  that 
other  is  more  to  me  than — almost  more  than  my  soul  ? 
Oh,  Carroll,  do  you  know  how  I  love  you  ?  Have  you 
ever  considered  how  a  mother  adores  her  child  ?” 

A  hysterical  sob  rose  to  the  girl’s  lips.  With  the 
greatest  difficulty  she  choked  it  back,  and  laughed 
just  a  little  wildly  instead. 

“Get  up  dearest,”  she  exclaimed,  assisting  lier 
mother  to  a  chair.  “You  are  absolutely  grow'ing 
emotional,  and  all  for  nothing.  Shall  I  tell  you  this 
secret  that  you  have  been  making  such  mountains  of? 
tWell,  it  is  quite  true  that  I  have  been  afraid  to  tell 
you,  and  knowing  how  easily  alarmed  our  dear,  Miss 
Kingman,  is,  I  have  rather  avoided  her  as  well,  for 
lear  she  would  upset  you  with  her  fears.  I  am  not  well 
*— that  it  all.  I  have  been  feeling  unwell  all  fall  and 


40 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


perhaps  I  have  not  been  quite  myself,  but  I  did  not 
think  I  had  carried  it  so  far  as  to  make  you  think 
all  the  things  you  have.  It  is  absolutely  amusing. 
I  have  been  too  closely  in-doors.  Sewing  does  not 
agree  with  me.  You  see,  I  have  become  a  regular 
nomad.  Now  put  all  your  fears  aside,  for  when  I 
have  recovered  from  this  bilious  attack  I  shall  be  as 
well  as  ever.  Ha !  ha !  it  is  funny,  is  it  not  ?  All  this 
emotionalism  and  breaking  of  hearts  begins  and  ends 
in  a  bilious  attack.  Curiously  hard  upon  romance,  is 
it  not?  Come,  dear  let  us  talk  of  something  more  in¬ 
teresting  than  my  very  prosaic  health.  What  do  you 
think  I  heard  to-day  when  I  went  to  take  Mrs.  Lang¬ 
ford's  package  home  ?” 

“What?” 

“Dora  has  come  home.” 

“Yes.” 

“How  dreadful !” 

There  was  momentary  pause.  The  swift  color  had 
surged  into  Carroll's  cheek;  but  Mrs.  Millbourne  did 
not  see  it  bending  as  she  did  above  a  piece  of  sewing. 

“Why  dreadful?”  the  girl  asked,  at  last,  in  a  voice 
that  was  hollow  and  choked. 

“Why?  How  can  you  ask?  I  wonder  that  she 
ever  had  the  courage  after  the  terrible  thing  that  she 
had  done.” 

Another  pause,  then  in  a  tone  still  more  dense,  still 
more  awful,  if  only  the  mother’s  ears  had  been  open 
to  hear  it : 

“She  had — loved.” 

“And — sinned!” 

Again  that  frightful  sob  was  rising  in  Carroll's 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  41 

threat,  but  again  she  choked  it  back  by  a  laugh  so 
hard,  so  cold,  that  Mrs.  Melbourne  shivered. 

“It  is  horrible !”  she  said,  dully.  “Ah,  dearest,  we 
can  not  understand  love  like  that,  can  we?  We  come 
of  a  race  too  cold,  too  proud.  Suppose — suppose — 
just  to  argue  the  case,  you  know— that  you  had  ever 
loved — 'not  wisely  but  too  weir — and  something — no 
matter  what — had  separated  you  from  the  man  who 
had  caused  your  shame,  what  would  you  have  done?” 

“Drowned  myself !”  answered  the  woman. 

“What?” 

“Drowned  myself!  Do  you  think  that  there  is  any¬ 
thing  in  all  this  world  that  should  tempt  a  chaste 
woman  to  bring  that  degradation  upon  herself?  Do 
you  think  there  is  anything  under  God’s  heavens  that 
would  excuse  her  for  bringing  a  shame  like  that  upon 
her  family?  If  Laura  Langford  had  been  a  child  of 
mine  I  would  gladly  have  given  her  to  the  waves 
rather  than  have  the  disgrace  upon  her  that  must  ever 
attach  to  a  wifeless  mother!” 

For  a  moment  a  wild  agony  burned  in  Carroll’s 
eyes.  It  seemed  that  concealment  of  her  hideous  suf¬ 
fering  was  no  longer  possible ;  then  she  fell  back  in 
her  chair,  pale  almost  exhausted  under  the  strength 
of  her  own  anguish.  It  was  frightful!  She  lifted 
her  sad  eyes  pleadingly  to  her  mother’s  face :  she 
opened  her  lips  to  speak,  but  the  words  died  upon 
them.  She  wrung  her  hands  helplessly.  There  was 
nothing  that  she  could  say — nothing — nothing! 

“Now  this  is  complete,”  exclaimed  Mrs.  Melbourne 
in  her  most  business-like  tone,  “I  am  going  to  send 
you  with  it  at  once.  The  walk  will  do  you  good.  Put 
on  your  hat  while  I  put  up  the  parcel.” 


42 


A  LIT/LE  PRINCESS 


With  a  step  that  staggered,  Carroll  rose  to  obey. 
There  was  an  anguish  at  her  heart  that  cut  like  a 
knife.  She  knew  that  her  time  had  come — she  knew, 
that  her  day  of  grace  was  over. 

She  fastened  on  her  hat,  and  turned  to  watch  the 
pale  woman’s  swift  fingers  as  she  tied  the  cord  about, 
the  package.  She  knew  that  she  was  about  to  say  to 
her  an  eternal  farwell,  and  perhaps  that  knowledge 
was  the  bitterest  one  that  had  as  yet  come  into  her  ‘ 
suffering  life.  Still  there  was  not  a  tear  in  her  eye.  - 
“There  it  is!”  exclaimed  Mrs.  Millbourne,  brightly.' 
“Now  take  it,  and  be  sure  you  go  to  call  upon  Miss 
Kingman  before  you  return.  You  will  do  it,  Car- 
roll?” 

“Yes  she  answered,  in  a  tone  that  her  mother  re¬ 
membered  long  afterward;  “I  will  call  there  before 
I  return !” 

She  took  the  bundle,  then,  laying  it  upon  the  table, 
placed  her  arms  about  her  mother. 

“Good-bye,  dearest,”  she  said,  hoarsely,  the  dry, 
tearless  gasp  touching  Mrs.  Millbourne  with  quiver¬ 
ing  force — “good-bye,  dearest !  Have  I  pained  you 
of  late.  I  was  a  good  daughter  to  you  once  was  I 
not  ?”  | 

“Carroll,  what  are  you  saying?” 

“I  should  like  to  hear  you  say  it,  dearest.  It  will 
be  a  comfort  to  me.  I  was  a  good  daughter  to  you 
once,  was  I  not  ?”  ' 

“You  have  always  been  a  good  daughter  to  me,  my 
darling.”  Qj* 

“Thank  you  for  that  so  much — so  much  1  Put  your 
arms  about  my  neck  in  the  old  fond  way  and  kiss  me, 
will  you  not?  There  is  one  thing  about  us,  dearest, 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


43 


that  never  can  die,  and  that  is  memory.  I  remember 
how  you  used  to  take  me  upon  your  knee  and  tell  me 
how  great  a  part  a  little  child  formed  in  its  mother's 
life.  You  would  never  believe  that  there  could  come 
a  time  in  your  life  when —  But  what  am  I  saying? 
Kiss  me,  mother,  as  you  kissed  me  then,  and  let  me 
go.” 

“How  strangely  you  act,  Carroll !” 

“Don’t  think  of  it.  I  am  ill  and  tired.  Kiss  me, 
dearest,  and  say  ‘God  bless  you/  as  you  did  in  those 
old  days  that  are  dead  beyond  resurrection.” 

“God  bless  you,  my  precious  girl!”  ' 

And  then  the  sob  would  be  no  longer  repressed.  It 
struggled  up  and  rent  the  air,  so  filled  with  agony 
that  Mrs.  Melbourne  cried  out;  but  when  she  looked 
there  was  a  smile  upon  her  daughter's  face. 

“Thank  you,  dearest!”  she  whispered. 

There  was  one  long  kiss,  and  then,  without  a  back¬ 
ward  glance,  Carroll  was  gone — gone!  Only  God 
knows  the  pity  of  it  all ! 

And  there  was  no  word  spoken  to  call  her  back ! 


Chapter  VII. 


*  A  swift,  wind-swept  snow  was  beginning  to  fall  that 
cut  the  face  like  a  whip-lash.  The  wind  whistled 
about  the  exposed  corners  of  adjacent  buildings,  some¬ 
times  wildly,  at  other  times  dismally,  like  a  human 
thing  in  distress.  A  terrible  storm  was  breaking, 
and  co  it  Mrs.  Millbourne  listened  in  dismay. 

More  than  once  she  went  to  the  window  and,  lift- 


m 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


ing  it,  looked  down  into  the  dark  street  where  the  few 
pedestrians  were  hurrying  and  scurrying  in  anxiety 
to  reach  the  shelter  of  home,  however  poor  a  one  it 
might  be;  but  the  great  height  made  her  dizzy,  and 
the  wind  cut  her  until  she  drew  back  with  an  irrepres¬ 
sible  shudder. 

She  glanced  at  the  tiny  clock  upon  the  little  marAel-| 
shelf.  -  { 

“Nine  o’clock!”  she  said  aloud,  shivering  as  her 
yoice  broke  the  intense  silence  of  the  room.  “Nine 
o’clock  and  Carroll  gone  since  five!  What  can  it 
mean?  I  might  think  she  had  remained  with  Miss 
Kingman,  but  they  would  have  sent  me  a  message 
surely,  knowing  how  great  my  anxiety  would  be. 
Kark!” 

i  She  listened  intently,  but  the  light  footfall  that  had 
attracted  her  attention  passed  the  door  and  turned 
down  the  hall. 

She  sighed  wearily,  and  sinking  down  in  a  chair 
allowed  a  slow  tear  to  trickle  down  her  pallid  cheek. 

She  seemed  to  lose  herself  in  a  bitter  reverie  for 
some  time,  during  which  the  storm  increased  in  viol¬ 
ence.  The  flakes  of  snow  and  ice  were  hurled  against 
the  window-panes  with  the  fury  of  a  hurricane,  and 
a  gust  of  peculiar  violence  seemed  to  shake  the  tene-' 
ment  to  its  very  foundation. 

Mrs.  Millbourne  started  up,  clasping  her  hands  in 
an  agony  of  terror. 

“Ten  o’clock!”  she  cried,  wildly,  “and  Carroll  still 
not  here — still  no  message  from  her !  I  can  bear  it  no 
longer.  What  shall  I  do?  I  will  go  to  Miss  King- 
man.  If  she  is  not  there — ” 

The  poor  woman  seemed  incapable  of  completing 


A  LITTLE  TRINCESS 


45 


the  thought.  Her  pale  lips  were  set  in  a  rigid  line, 
her  haggard  eyes  contained  a  desperation  that  was 
.utterly  foreign  to  their  usual  placidity.  { 

For  a  moment  she  paused  to  listen  to  the  wild  rag¬ 
ing  of  the  storm,  then  seeming  to  realize  without  the 
power  of  deduction  that  either  bonnet  or  umbrella 
,  would  be  worse  than  useless,  she  wound  a  shawl  about 
her  head,  and  shoulders  and  hurried  down  the  long 
[  ^flights  of  stairs  to  the  street.  ft 

|  A  great  gust  of  wind  and  sleet  tore  at  her  face  like 
the  claws  of  some  fierce  animal;  but  if  she  felt  it  she 
paid  no  heed.  ) 

The  streets  were  deserted  save  for  an  occasional 
truck  which  staggered  through  the  storm;  yet  that 
hideous  presentiment  of  impending  evil  to  her  dar¬ 
ling  lent  strength  to  the  weary,  flagging  steps  of  the 
wretched  woman.  v 

,  She  turned  into  a  cross  street,  the  wind  and  sleet 
seeming  to  gain  new  ascendency.  More  than  once  she 
{fell  prostrate  upon  her  face;  but  with  difficulty  she 
scrambled  to  her  feet  again  and  tottered  on.  The 
snow,  freezing  as  it  fell  and  swept  by  the  wind,  still 
Cut  her  cruelly.  Occasionally  she  was  forced  to 
clutch  at  an  iron  railing  to  prevent  herself  from  fall- 
|ing,  her  fingers  torn  and  bleeding  as  they  left  their 
fcold  support.  f 

I  Not  once,  under  all  the  difficulties  by  which  she  was 
S  surrounded,  was  she  tempted  to  turn  back.  Her  heart 
seemed  so  cold  and  sick  under  the  awful  fear  that 
oppressed  her  that  she  thought  of  nothing  but  to  reach 
the  home  of  her  one  friend.  She  dared  not  analyze 
her  own  fears  but  with  bent  head  and  tottering  steps 
ibe  staggered  ©n. 


A  LITTLE  TRINCESS 


46 

She  reached  Broadway  at  last  faint,  almost  ex¬ 
hausted,  and  supporting  herself  by  one  of  the  street 
lamps  until  a  car  drawn  by  fagged  and  jaded  horses 
came  up.  She  hailed  it  and  got  in. 

There  were  a  few  passengers,  but  those  that  were 
within  she  scarcely  saw.  Her  ghastly  face  may  have 
attracted  them,  but  she  was  only  one  more  of  those 
poor  unfortunates  whom  we  pass  daily — almost  hourly; 
•—in  our  wandering,  so  common  that  we  even  forget 
to  pity.  ! 

(  Her  wild  eyes  were  fixed  ever  upon  the  street,  2 
shiver  passing  over  her  occassionally  as  a  renewed 
burst  of  wind  spoke  of  the  increase  of  the  storm.  Then 
at  last  she  signaled  to  the  conductor  and  left  the  car. 

The  wind  carried  her  almost  off  her  feet;  but  she 
drew  her  shawl  more  closely  and  went  onward.  5 

Only  a  little  way  now.  The  lights  from  the  houses 
of  fashion  flickered  into  the  streets,  an  occasional 
note  of  music  was  heard  above  the  voice  of  the  storm ; 
but  Millicent  Melbourne  was  deaf  to  sound.  Once 
Or  twice  she  paused  and  peered  through  the  shadowy 
light  at  the  numbers  upon  the  houses,  then  going  on¬ 
ward  as  rapidly  as  the  storm  and  her  own  weariness 
Would  permit,  she  counted  the  houses. 

1  “It  is  here!”  she  moaned  at  last.  “God  grant  that 
I  may  find  her  safe !” 

She  paused  for  a  moment  as  if  her  frail  strength 
bad  deserted  her,  then  by  a  supreme  effort,  beaten 
back  as  she  was  at  every  step  by  the  fierceness  of  the 
storm,  she  mounted  the  stoop  and  pulled  violently  at 
the  bell. 

Protected  somewhat  from  the  storm  she  Yeaned 
fgainst  the  inner  door,  fighting  back  the  faintness  that 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


43 

sfie  felt  was  overcoming  her.  Then  she  became  con¬ 
scious  that  a  stream  of  light  from  the  hall  had  fallen 
over  her.  By  a  supreme  effort  she  drew  herself  up 
and  turned  to  the  servant;  but  everything  grew  dark 
before  her.  She  staggered,  and,  throwing  out  hei 
hand,  caught  the  man’s  arm. 

4  " Miss  Kingman !”  she  gasped.  "Quick!  I  must  sejr 

m  her!” 

f  Acquainted  as  he  was  with  the  numerous  charities 
of  his  mistress,  the  man  did  not  hesitate,  but  drew  th$ 
dripping  creature  inside  the  elegant  hall. 

"Wait  here,”  he  said  to  her,  "and  I  will  speak  to 
Miss  Kingman.” 

But  Millicent  Millbourne  had  already  stood  all  that 
her  frail  constitution  could  endure.  Blindly  she 
groped  her  way  after  him,  and  as  he  lifted  the  portiere. 
of  the  drawing-room  she  pushed  by  him. 

As  one  recognizes  a  shadow,  she  saw  Geraldine 
Kingman  rise  and  come  toward  her. 

"Where  is  she?”  gasped  the  miserable  mother* 
already  conscious  of  how  little  hope  she  had  had  fro*  1 
the  beginning.  "Is  Carroll  here?” 

<  "Carroll?” 

*j  "Yes.  For  God’s  sake,  speak  quick!” 

v  "She  is  not  here — has  not  been  here.  OK  Mm, 
Millbourne  what  has  happened  ?” 

But  there  was  no  answer.  The  white-faced  figm^ 
swayed  for  a  moment,  then  fell  headlong  into  the  arms 
of  the  young  man  who  was  Geraldine  Kingman’s 
guest. 

He  was  scarcely  less  pale  than  she.  With  set  lips 
and  a  wild  burning  in  the  eyes  which  spoke  more 
plainly  than  words  of  his  creat  anxiety,  he  lifted  the 


43 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


frail  form  in  his  arms,  all  wet  and  dripping  as  she  was, 
and  carried  her  to  a  sofa  in  the  library.  He  lowered 
her  head,  and  while  Geraldine  Kingman  watched  in 
silent  surprise,  he  restored  his  patient  to  conscious¬ 
ness. 

When  the  great  blue  eyes  opened  once  again  Miss' 
Kingman  caught  his  arm. 

“Thomas  will  carry  her  to  my  boudoir,  Ballard,”  j? 
she  exclaimed,  “and  my  maid  will — ” 

But  Ballard  Hilliard  shook  his  head.  ^ 

“Wait!”  he  said,  in  a  tone  she  had  never  heard  him 
use  before.  “We  must  know  first  what  has  brought 
her  here  at  this  hour  and  upon  a  night  like  this.” 

Already  Millicent  Millbourne  had  struggled  to  a  sit¬ 
ting  posture,  and  was  gazing  from  one  to  the  other 
in  wildest  dismay.  Very  gently  Ballard  Hilliard  took 
her  hands  in  his,  and  controlling  his  own  emotion  as 
best  he  could,  said  almost  tenderly : 

“Try  to  calm  yourself,  madame,  and  tell  us  what 
has  happened.  Remember  that  you  are  with  friends 
who  will  go  to  any  length  to  assist  you.  It  is  of  Miss 
Carroll  Millbourne  that  you  were  speaking,  is  it  not  ?” 

“Yes,  yes,”  she  answered,  hoarsely,  “my  daughter. 
She  left  me  at  five  o’clock  to  return  a  piece  of  work. 
She  said  that  she  would  call  here  before  her  return* 
At  ten  she  had  not  come.” 

Ballard  Hilliard’s  face  grew  still  more  grave. 

“Perhaps — ”  he  began,  but  she  interrupted  him. 

“It  may  seem  foolish  to  be  so  frightened,”  she  cried* 
miserably,  “but  her  manner  at  leaving  me  was  so 
strange,  so  very  strange.  Oh,  my  God!  my  God! 
Why  did  I  not  think  then  and  keep  her  with  me?” 

“Odaa  yourself,  dear  madame,”  exclaimed  Hilliard* 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


49 


with  great  difficulty  maintaining  his  own  self-control. 
“Remember  your  daughter’s  fate  may  depend  upon  it. 
Tell  me  as  nearly  as  you  can  all  that  occurred.  Keep 
back  nothing,  for  upon  a  small  detail  everything  may 
depend.” 

'  And  then  followed  a  minute  account  of  that  after¬ 
noon.  A  spasm  of  pain  had  settled  upon  Ballard  Hill¬ 
iard’s  features.  He  appeared  gray  and  old,  but  not  a 
word  escaped  his  lips  as  that  wretched  mother  re¬ 
peated  the  last  sentence  that  she  had  heard  fall  from 
her  daughter’s  lips — a  sentence  that  was  engraved  up¬ 
on  her  heart  forever. 

“Kiss  me,  dearest,  and  say  'God  bless  you/  as  you 
did  in  those  old  days  that  are  dead  beyond  resurrec¬ 
tion.” 

And  then  Mrs.  Millbourne  described  that  sob  that 
had  filled  even  the  air  with  agony. 

“What  did  you  say  was  the  number  of  the  house 
where  she  went  to  return  the  sewing?”  asked  Hill¬ 
iard  so  hoarsely  that  neither  of  them  would  have  re¬ 
cognized  his  voice. 

It  was  given  again. 

“Remain  here  until  my  return,”  he  cried,  unable  to 
repress  some  slight  expression  of  his  absorbing  an¬ 
guish.  “When  I  return  I  will  bring  news  of  her.  Yon 
can  do  nothing.  Leave  everything  to  me,  and  I  will 
find  her  as  surely  as  Heaven  is  above  us.” 

He  strode  from  the  room  without  a  glance  in  the 
direction  of  his  fiancee,  forgetful  even  of  her  exist¬ 
ence,  unconscious  that  she  stood  beside  him  as  he 
paused  upon  the  stoop  to  button  his  great-coat 
him  before  plunging  into  the  storm. 


so 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

Chapter  VIII. 


r  (With  hat  drawn  down  closely  over  his  eyes  and 
Coat  buttoned  about  his  throat,  Ballard  Hilliard  faced 
the  fiercest  storm  that  New  York  had  known  in  years, 
f  Yet  he  scarcely  seemed  to  feel  it.  The  gale  that 
would  have  made  progress  almost  impossible  for  an-* 
other  seemed  to  comfort  his  raging  spirit.  The  cut-f 
ting  of  the  wind  across  his  face,  strange  as  it  may; 
seem,  was  almost  refreshing.  He  was  well-nigh 
crazed  under  his  awful  anxiety  for  the  girl  whom  he 
loved  better  than  he  did  his  life,  and  but  for  his  fear 
for  her  safety,  the  storm  would  have  been  a  positive 
relief  to  his  suffering. 

He  strode  on  with  bent  head,  unconscious  of  the 
tremendous  effort  he  was  making  to  keep  his  feet, 
blinded  by  the  sleet  and  snow  that  blew  in  gusts  into 
his  eyes,  yet  walking  with  comparative  rapidity,  led 
by  intuition  rather  than  any  connected  reason.  He 
seemed  stunned  by  the  fear  that  paralyzed  his  heart. 

There  was  not  a  cab  to  be  seen,  and  no  line  of  cars 
that  led  to  the  address  that  Mrs.  Millbourne  had 
given ;  but  the  distance  was  not  great,  and  it  was  with 
something  like  a  revival  of  hope  that  he  paused  be¬ 
fore  the  house  that  she  had  indicated,  to  make  sure  of 
the  number,,  then  staggered  up  the  stoop  and  rang 
the  bell. 

It  was  then  for  the  first  time  that  he  realized  that 
lie  was  almost  frozen.  His  stiff  fingers  nearly  refused 
when  called  upon  to  fasten  themselves  about  the  bell- 
knob,  his  mustache  was  frozen  in  a  straight  icicle 
across  his  mouth,  and  when  the  flood  of  light  from 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


5E 


the  hall  fell  upon  him  as  the  door  was  opened  by  the 
servant,  he  could  scarcely  control  his  tongue  suffi¬ 
ciently  to  ask  his  question:  “Is  Mrs.  Lahraen  at 
home  ?”  -*.f 

•  .The  servant  stared  in  some  surprise  that  any  one 
should  call  at  that  hour  and  in  a  storm  so  violent, 'but' 

!  seeing  that  it  was  a  gentleman  who  had  addressed  her, 

'  she  answered : 

•  ‘‘Yes,  sir,  I  think  so.  Will  you  walk  in?” 

:  Grateful  for  the  warmth  that  was  offered,  and 

Scarcely  able  to  control  his  anxiety,  he  stepped  inside, 
allowed  the  girl  to  close  the  door,  then  stationed  him¬ 
self  near  the  radiator  in  the  hall. 

■j  “I  will  wait  here,”  he  said  to  the  maid.  “I  am  too 
Wet  to  go  into  the  drawing-room.  Say  to  Mrs.  LaK- 
men  that  I  will  not  detain  her  a  moment.” 
f  The  girl  departed  upon  her  errand,  and  shortly 
after,  a  lady  descended  the  stairs.  Hilliard  had  some¬ 
what  recovered  from  the  terrible  chill,  and  with  hat 
in  hand  went  forward  to  meet  her. 

“I  must  apologize  for  intruding  upon  you  at  this 
hour,  Mrs.  Lahmen,”  he  said,  in  his  accustomed  high- 

•  bred  way  that  no  one  ever  by  chance  mistook:  “but 
i  I  am  very  anxious  about  a  young  lady  who  is  thought 
:  to  have  come  to  your  house  upon  an  errand  this  after- 

■  noon,  and  who  has  not  as  yet  returned  home.  I  re¬ 
fer  to  Miss  Carroll  Millbourne.  Is  she  here  ?” 

“Carroll  Millbourne?  Oh,  no!  She  was  here  a 
little  after  five  o’clock,  but  left  before  the  breaking  of 
the  storm.  She  certainly  had  ample  time  to  have 
reached  home  long  before  it  began  to  snow.” 

A  faintness  seized  upon  Ballard  Hilliard.  He  stag¬ 
gered  against  the  wall,  his  face  ghastly  in  its  set  pallor. 


52 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


For  a  moment  it  seemed  that  he  had  utterly  lost  cogh 
trol  of  himself.  Mrs.  Lahmen  turned  hurriedly  to  her 
servant. 

“Tell  Thomas  to  bring  some  brandy  at  once,  and 
get  a  chair  for  this  gentleman,”  she  exclaimed. 

Hilliard  received  the  chair  gratefully,  in  a  measure 
recovering  himself,  and  smiled  at  Mrs.  Lahmen  in  a 
way  that  touched  her  heart. 

“I  am  sorry  to  trouble  you,”  he  said,  as  quietly  as 
he  could  force  his  shaking  voice  to  speak;  “but  my 
fear  for  Miss  Melbourne  almost  overcame  me  for 
the  moment.  I  have  quite  recovered  from  the  weak¬ 
ness  now.  I  can’t  describe  the  storm  to  you.  It  is 
frightful,  and  she  has  not  reached  home.  Will  you 
tell  me  what  you  can  of  her  call  here  ?” 

“There  seems  to  be  so  little  to  tell,”  answered  the 
lady,  hesitatingly;  “yet  now  that  you  recall  it  all  to 
me,  I  remember  that  there  was  something  most  pecu¬ 
liar  in  Miss  Melbourne's  manner.  She  refused  to 
receive  the  money  that  was  due  her  mother  for  the 
work  that  she  had  done,  but  begged  me  to  send  it  to 
her  to-morrow  morning.  I  recall  that  there  was  a 
most  peculiar  expression  upon  her  face  when  she 
made  the  request,  but  naturally,  not  being  particularly 
well  acquainted  with  her,  I  asked  no  questions.  And 
now  that  you  have  brought  it  to  my  memory  with 
your  interrogation,  there  was  one  point  that  attracted 
my  attention.  The  nurse  was  coming  in  with  baby  at 
the  time  that  Miss  Melbourne  was  leaving.  She  took 
the  child  from  nurse’s  arms,  kissed  her  passionately, 
laid  her  back,  and  hurried  from  the  room.” 

But  the  latter  remembrance  seemed  not  to  affect 
(Billiard  an  tiic  {tortxuxr  kad  «kaie,  ht<i.  kwrr  perfectly 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


53 


well  that  the  Millbournes  were  not  in  such  affluent 
circumstances  that  they  could  refuse  to  receive  money 
that  was  rightly  their  due,  and  the  fact  struck  him 
with  peculiar  significance. 

He  took  the  glass  of  brandy  that  the  servant  had 
brought,  and  swallowed  it  as  if  the  fiery  liquid  had 
been  water;  then  he  arose.  He  did  not  care  to  com¬ 
municate  his  fears  to  this  woman ;  but  in  a  voice  that 
was  unrecognizably  hoarse,  he  asked; 

“Is  that  all?” 

“I  think  so.” 

“She  said  nothing  about  where  she  was  going  from 
here  ?” 

“Nothing.” 

“I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  kindness,  and, 
wish  you  good-evening.” 

“You  are  quite  welcome  to  the  little  I  have  been 
able  to  tell  you;  but  I  should  like  for  you  to  let  me 
know7  when  Miss  Millbourne  is  safe.  There  is  some¬ 
thing  in  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  the  child  that 
seems  to  attract  every  one  to  her,  and  I  shall  feel 
anxious  until  I  know7  that  she  is  with  her  friends 
again.” 

Some  irrepressible  impulse  caused  Ballard  Hill¬ 
iard  to  put  out  his  hand  and  grasp  that  of  the  woman 
beside  him.  He  felt  her  sympathy  for  the  girl  he 
loved,  in  the  tone  of  her  kind  voice,  and  it  touched 
him  deeply. 

“Thank  you,”  he  said,  simply.  “I  shall  do  so.” 

And  then  Mrs.  Lahmen  held  the  door  open  for  him 
until  he  had  once  more  faced  the  storm,  but  now 
without  that  hope  that  had  buoyed  him  up  during  +he 
walk  there. 


54 


A  LITTLE  FRINCESS 


His  heart  was  torn  with  all  kinds  of  fears.  What 
had  happened  to  Carroll?  .Why  had  she  left  her 
home  in  that  strange  way?  What  had  caused  the 
significant  conversation  with  her  mother? 

And  then  the  horrible  fear  came  over  him  that  she 
had  killed  herself.  He  turned  giddy  and  held  to  the 
railing  for  support,  but  he  put  the  thought  from  him 
with  a  savage  force  that  seemed  to  impart  strength. 
He  recovered  himself  and  went  doggedly  on. 

The  storm  was  still  in  the  fiercest  of  its  struggle, 
but  he  pressed  onward  with  a  resolution  that  would 
have  carried  him  through  a  greater  difficulty. 

He  went  to  the  nearest  police  station  and  had  the 
alarm  sent  out;  then  he  realized,  with  a  sinking  of 
the  heart,  that  he  had  done  all  he  could  do. 

Yet  how  was  he  to  face  that  wretched  mother 
again,  believing  as  he  did  that  he  was  the  cause  of  her 
daughter’s  strange  disappearance,  and  with  nothing 
to  tell  but  that  her  worst  fears  were  realized — 
that  there  was  nothing  to  tell,  that  Carroll’s  fate  was 
as  much  in  darkness  as  ever? 

He  groaned  audibly.  His  own  heart  seemed  break¬ 
ing  under  the  greatness  of  his  grief,  yet  his  first 
thought  was  of  that  miserable  mother  whom  he  had 
worse  than  robbed  of  more  than  her  life.  How  he 
cursed  himself  and  his  own  mad  folly  that  had  plunged 
them  all  in  that  bitter  misery!  Yet  it  was  too  late  to 
recall  it.  The  act  was  in  that  dead  past  that  even  the 
power  of  God  can  not  erase. 

If  he  could  have  died  out  there  in  the  storm  ramcr 
than  go  back  and  face  those  two  women,  both  of  whom 
he  had  so  cruelly  wronged,  it  would  have  been  a 
happier  fate;  but  there  was  little  cowardice  in  the 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


5S 


nature  of  Ballard  Hilliard.  He  returned  to  them* 
and  he  went  as  quickly  as  the  storm  would  allow.  i 

But  it  was  a  terrible  struggle.  Chilled  as  he  aK 
(ready  was  to  the  very  marrow  of  his  bones,  wear y 
and  heart-sore,  faint  from  the  sickening  fear  upon 
him,  thinking  at  every  step  how  impossible  it  was 
for  a  frail  thing  like  Carroll  to  live  through  such  $ 
storm,  the  walk  was  a  terrible  one.  *.  \ 

Having  arrived  at  the  house,  he  pulled  the  bell 
'feebly,  but  not  so  feebly  but  that  it  was  heard  by  the 
two  anxious  women  within. 

Miss  Kingman  herself  it  was  who  answered  the 
summons.  She  seized  him  by  the  arm  and  almost 
dragged  him  into  the  house.  Neither  seemed  capa-< 
ble  of  putting  the  question  that  was  spoken  by  both1 
pairs  of  anxious,  suffering  eyes ;  but  Hilliard  did  not 
even  see  his  fiancee.  He  was  looking  at  the  mother) 
of  the  girl  whom  he  had  so  madly  loved,  thinking  of 
the  terrible  blow  that  he  must  inflict.  He  pushed 
Geraldine  Kingman  from  him  without  a  glance  in  her, 
direction,  and  going  to  Mrs.  Millbourne,  he  took  both 
her  hands  in  his. 

“You  must  not  despair,”  he  said,  hoarsely,  trying 
to  infuse  his  voice  with  a  courage  he  was  far  from 
feeling  and  failing  piteously.  “I  have  not  found 
her,  but  I  swear  to  you  that,  living  or  dead,  she  shall 
be!  I  swear  to  you  that,  if  your  child  is  still  upon 
this  earth,  she  shall  be  restored  to  you!  Try  to  trust 
me,  if  you  can,  as  you  would  trust  your  own  son.” 

But  the  last  words  were  uttered  to  deaf  ears,  for 
Mrs.  Millbourne  was  lying  silently  upon  the  floor, 
with  upturned,  unconscious  face, 
v  There  was  an  expression  of  bewilderment  and 


56 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


horror  upon  Miss  Kingman’s  face  that  was  not  trans¬ 
latable  ;  but  Hilliard  was  blind  to  all  that.  She  watched 
him,  half  stunned,  as  for  the  second  time  he  lifted  the 
stiil  body  in  his  stiff,  numb  arms. 


Chapter  IX. 


When  Carroll  left  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Lahmen 
she  paused  at  the  foot  of  the  stoop,  half  bewildered 
under  the  uncertainty  and  terror  that  were  upon  her. 

The  act  of  leaving  home  was  no  suddenly  conceived 
notion  with  her.  She  had  known  for  some  time 
that  it  must  be  done  sooner  or  later  to  save  herself 
from  the  shame  that  she  had  brought  upon  herself 
and  her  mother;  but,  like  all  women,  she  had  hoped 
against  hope  for  that  interposition  of  Providence 
that  never  comes.  But  it  was  almost  with  the  sud¬ 
denness  of  a  blow  that  she  realized  that  the  time  had 
come  when  her  departure  could  be  in  safety  postponed 
no  longer. 

Yet  as  much  as  she  had  thought  of  the  subject  in 
the  silence  and  darkness  of  her  own  chamber,  she 
had  arrived  at  no  conclusion  as  to  what  she  should 
do. 

She  must  go  away.  That  seemed  to  be  the  only 
definite  idea  that  she  possessed,  and  it  had  so  com¬ 
pletely  prostrated  her  mentally  that  she  had  been  able 
to  think  out  no  plan  by  which  she  could  aid  herself. 

“What  am  I  to  do?”  she  asked  of  herself,  helplessly, 
as  she  stood  there  under  the  threatening  sky.  “Shall 
I  take  her  advice  and  drown  my  misery  and  my  shame 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


5Z 

together?  God  help  me,  I  can  not — I  can  not!  I 
have  not  the  right.  If  it  were  but  my  worthless  life 
alone — but,  no ;  it  can  not  be !  I  must  live  for  the  sake 
of —  Thou,  God,  who  had  pity  upon  the  Magdalene, 
have  mercy  upon  me !” 

|  She  turned  away  aimlessly  and  walked  onward  with 
(bent  head,  unconscious  of  the  direction  she  was  taking, 
| too  much  stunned  by  the  awfulness  of  her  position  to 
4  be  able  to  think  or  plan  even  remotely  for  her  future*, 

The  storm  had  not  broken,  but  the  wind  was  blow^ 
ing  heavily — a  fierce,  biting  gale  that  cut  her  like  a 
knife — but  she  did  not  pause  to  consider  it.  She  was 
leaving  forever  everything  that  life  had  ever  held 
dear  to  her — her  mother,  her  friend,  her  lover !  There 
was  nothing  left— nothing!  Death  would  have  beeU 
so  easy  to  her,  and  yet  she  dared  not  consider  that. 

She  was  in  the  teeth  of  a  hideous  agony,  driven  by 
the  most  cruel  fate  that  ever  scourged  an  innocent 
and  helpless  girl. 

And  after  all,  the  fault  was  not  hers,  but  an  error 
of  that  great  mastering  passion,  Love,  that  is  God- 
given. 

She  was  too  wearily  miserable  to  consider  the  hor¬ 
rible  uncertainty,  the  frightful  dangers  of  the  unknown 
life  into  which  she  was  going;  but  with  semi-uncon¬ 
sciousness  she  went  onward.  She  was  recalled  to  a 
knowledge  of  her  surroundings  by  the  bustle  and  con¬ 
fusion  around  her — the  crossing  of  street-cars,  the 
hurrying  of  men  and  women — and  looking  about  her 
almost  for  the  first  time,  she  realized  that  she  was  in 
front  of  the  Grand  Central  Depot. 

She  paused  and  tried  to  collect  her  wits.  She  hhi 
saved  a  little  money  from  the  pittance  she  had 


58 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


enabled  to  earn,  knowing  that  this  day  was  at  handj 
and  almost  without  taking  time  for  a  second  of  re¬ 
flection,  she  followed  the  people  who  were  entering 
the  station. 

There  was  a  girl  just  in  front  of  her — a  girl  about 
her  own  age  and  size — a  girl  that  was  not  unlike  her 
as  to  her  back  and  hair — and  as  she  followed,  a  desire 
to  see  the  face  of  this  traveler,  who  was  also  alone, 
possessed  her.  She  quickened  her  steps.  The  face 
was  not  pretty,  but  there  wa$  an  expression  of  such 
sorrow  in  it  that  Carroll  felt  herself  instinctively 
drawn  to  the  stranger.  She  walked  directly  behind 
her  to  the  window  of  the  ticket-office. 

In  a  soft  voice  that  spoke  of  considerable  refine¬ 
ment,  the  stranger  asked  for  a  ticket  for  Albany,  and 
following  her  example,  Carroll  opened  her  well-worn 
purse  and  repeated  the  request.  The  girl  turned  and 
glanced  at  her  fellow-traveler.  The  same  magnetism 
that  had  attracted  Carroll  seemed  to  reach  to  her,  for 
as  she  met  the  girl's  eye  a  smile  passed  over  her  plain, 
pale  face. 

Carroll  smiled  in  return.  Is  it  singular  that  suffer¬ 
ing  recognizes  its  companion?  There  are  stranger 
fatalities  in  this  curious  old  world  of  ours. 

Margaret  Denning  stopped  when  she  has  passed  the 
ticket-office,  and  watched  until  Carroll  had  received 
her  change. 

“Are  you  going  to  Albany?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are  you  alone?” 

“Yes.” 

“Shall  v/e  not  go  together,  then?  Traveling  alons 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  59 

h  not  nearly  so  pleasant  as  when  one  has  an  agree¬ 
able  companion.” 

“Perhaps  I  shall  not  prove  very  agreeable,  in  so 
far  as  being  entertaining  goes,  but  I  shall  be  very; 
glad  of  your  society,”  answered  Carroll,  thankful 
that  something  was  to  interrupt  the  misery  of  her. 
own  reflections. 

The  two  walked  on  together  and  took  their  seats 
in  the  train. 

“Do  you  live  in  Albany?”  asked  Miss  Denning, 
With  a  smile  that  was  most  winning. 

“No;  I  have  never  been  there  in  my  life.  Do  you 
know  the  city?” 

“Not  at  all.  The  fact  is  that  I  am  sadly  afraid  I 
am  going  upon  a  fool's  errand.  My  mother  died 
three  years  ago,  leaving  me  all  alone  in  the  world. 
She  had  one  sister,  whose  address  she  did  not  know; 
but  they  had  loved  each  other  very  dearly  in  their 
girlhood,  and  my  mother  made  me  promise  that  if 
ever  I  heard  of  her  I  would  go  to  see  her,  and,  if 
welcome,  remain  under  her  care.  I  heard  last  week 
that  she  was  living  in  Albany,  though  I  am  as  yet 
uncertain  of  the  address.  The  consequence  is  that  I 
:  have  not  written,  but  am  going  there  hoping  that  I  may 
-find  her.  It  is  a  terrible  struggle  for  a  girl  to  live  ‘a 
this  world  alone.” 

*  Carroll  shivered. 

“It  must  be,”  she  said,  drearily. 

“Are  you  going  to  friends?”  asked  the  girl,  kindly. 

“No;  I  have  none.  I  am  going  to  make  my  own 
way  in  the  world.” 

Miss  Denning  looked  at  her  sharply;  but  seeing  the 
whitened  pain  and  misery  in  the  young  face,  she  swab 


UO  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

lowed  the  words  that  were  upon  her  lips,  and  said 
instead : 

“ You  are  very  pretty — cruelly  pretty.  It  will  be 
Worse  for  you  than  it  has  been  for  me.  God  pity  you !”. 

There  was  a  long  silence  between  them,  during 
Which  each  seemed  busy  with  her  own  most  painful 
reflections.  The  train  was  running  swiftly.  The 
darkness  had  come  suddenly,  and  the  wind  was  whist¬ 
ling  with  peculiar  fierceness.  Several  times  the  brake- 
man  came  into  the  car  and  filled  the  already  crimson 
Stove  with  coals,  for  the  night  was  one  of  intense  cold¬ 
ness.  The  storm  was  coming,  and  many  persons, 
with  their  hands  shading  their  eyes,  peered  into  the 
darkness  without  through  the  windows,  shivering  as 
they  realized  the  strength  of  the  hurricane. 

Then  great  flakes  of  snow  spattered  against  the  glass 
—-snow  that  froze  tightly  as  it  fell. 

“It  is  a  wild  night  without,”  a  hoarse  voice  at  the 
end  of  the  car  said  aloud.  “I  don't  remember  to 
have  seen  a  storm  like  this  in  twenty  years.” 

There  was  silence  again,  and  the  people  shuddered. 

Still  the  train  moved  rapidly,  the  shrill  scream  of 
the  locomotive,  heard  occasionally  above  the  voice  of 
the  wind,  sounding  like  some  human  thing  gasping 
for  help.  The  passengers  huddled  together,  as  if  some 
premonition  of  impending  danger  hung  over  them  and 
there  was  hope  of  courage  in  their  proximity  to  each 
other. 

“It  is  frightful!”  whispered  Carroll  to  her  new 
friend,  drawing  a  trifle  closer  to  her.  “Are  not  you 
afraid?” 

Miss  Denning  laughed  softly. 

“No!”  she  answered.  “There  is  something  grand 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  611 

lo  me  in  a  superb  storm  like  this,  I  am  a  fatalist,  on 
perhaps  I  should  say,  a  believer  in  predestination* 
God  knows  best,  and  I  am  willing  to  leave  my  life  itt 
His  hands.  No;  I  am  not  afraid.”  ^ 

The  quietness  of  the  tone  seemed  to  calm  Carroll, 
for  she  sat  for  some  moments  forgetful  of  her  own 
suffering  in  listening  to  the  wildness  of  the  wind  as 
swept  madly  about  the  car.  ~j 

“It  is  cold,  don't  you  think?”  asked  Miss  Denning, 
after  another  long  pause. 

.“Rather,” 

“Let  us  go  closer  to  the  stove.” 

“But  in  the  event  of  an  accident — ” 

“Nonsense!  Why  should  there  be  one  to-nightl 
fciore  than  any  other  night  ?” 

“I  don't  know,  but — ” 

“You  are  nervous.  Don’t  be  foolish.” 

“I  am  afraid  I  can’t  help  it.” 

“Do  you  think  if  God  intended  that  you  should  die 
He  would  save  you  because  you  happen  to  be  sitting 
in  this  seat  instead  of  over  there?  Come!” 

She  arose,  and  smiling  down  upon  Carroll  with! 
that  same  fascinating  smile  that  she  had  seen  upon  the 
plain  features  once  before,  held  out  her  hand.  Car- 
roll  arose  at  once.  ! 

There  was  an  anxious  expression  upon  her  face, 
a  fear  that  had  driven  out  misery  shone  upon  her 
countenance. 

The  train  had  slowed  up  for  some  reason,  and  al¬ 
most  every  face  in  the  car  was  shaded  as  the  passen¬ 
gers  peered  from  the  windows. 

“Looks  like  a  bridge,”  said  some  one  as  Carroll  was 
passing. 


62 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Miss  Denning  had  already  reached  her  seat  and 
had  taken  the  One -next  the  window,  making  room  fot! 
Carroll  beside  her.  There  was  a  sudden  lurch  of  the 
car  that  threw  Carroll  backward  before  she  had 
reached  it.  She  caught  upon  one  of  the  seats  and 
saved  herself  from  falling,  but  before  she  could  re¬ 
cover  her  balance  there  was  a  fierce  howl  of  the  wind 
more  terrible  than  all  the  rest.  For  a  moment  the 
moving  train  seemed  to  quiver,  then — God  knows 
what  happened. 

There  was  a  shriek  from  a  thousand  throats—* 
and  silence! 


Chapter  X. 


Computed  in  minutes,  perhaps  that  hideous  silence 
continued  scarcely  two,  but  to  those  miserable  beings, 
paralyzed  with  fright,  lying  there  stricken,  wounded, 
dying  in  the  debris ,  it  seemed  ages;  but  it  is  curious 
how  quickly  the  human  mind  will  recover  from  a 
shock,  no  matter  how  stunning  in  its  effect. 

It  was  from  a  trestle-work  that  crossed  a  deep 
ravine  that  the  train  had  been  blown,  and  there  at  the 
bottom  the  cars  were  smashed  in  pieces,  some  lying 
across  each  other,  others  stretched  out  stark  and 
stiff  like  huge  dead  animals,  but  all  telling  their  own 
story  of  death  and  destruction.  1 , 

As  soon  as  they  had  realized  what  had  happened, 
those  who  had  escaped  unhurt  began  to  pull  them¬ 
selves  from  the  broken  timbers  that  had  fallen  upon 
and  pinioned  them.  Then  began  the  groans  and  curses 


~  '  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  63 

Irons  the  men,  shrieks  from  the  women,  and  piteous 
pries  from  children  that  makes  a  scene  like  that  give 
a  man  such  as  Dante,  a  conception  of  Inferno. 
i  But  for  all  their  oaths  and  blasphemy,  the  men 
[worked  like  Trojans.  Twenty  had,  perhaps,  made 
their  escape  from  the  ruins  and  were  engaged  in  the 
charitable  work  of  assisting  others,  when  suddenly 
there  was  a  cry  of  horror  from  every  lip,  and  for  a 
single  second  the  hands  that  answered  the  will  o £ 
sympathetic  hearts  were  stopped  under  the  wild  feat 
that  took  possession  of  them. 

“Fire!  The  cars  are  on  fire !” 

!;  It  was  but  too  true.  The  overturned  stoves  had  be¬ 
gun  to  do  their  deadly  work,  and  the  flames,  fanned 
to  fury  by  the  terrible  gale,  leaped  higher  and  higher, 
licking  about  in  every  direction  in  search  of  fresh 
fuel  for  its  hideous  work. 

The  red  glare  and  crackling  of  the  flames,  the  fierce 
roar  of  the  wind,  the  groans  and  cries  of  the  doomed 
[wretches,  completed  a  scene  that  could  only  be  sur¬ 
passed  in  horror  by  the  very  center  of  Hades. 

But  the  terrors  of  the  situation  only  seemed  to 
lend  new  strength  to  that  noble  little  band  of  rescuers, 
and  they  worked  with  the  energy  born  of  despair.  A! 
lew  more  workers  were  added  to  their  number,  men 
who  had  been  released  from  some  object  which  had 
held  them  prisoners,  and,  forgetful  of  their  own  cuts 
and  bruises,  they  tugged  at  heavy  objects  that  con¬ 
fined  their  fellow-sufferers,  their  faces  blackened  with 
smoke,  their  willing  hands  blistered  with  the  flames  J 
but  still  they  paused  not. 

^  How  readily  we  can  understand,  under  circum- 


64 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


stances  like  these,  that  noble,  generous  man  was 
created  in  the  likeness  of  God. 

Person  after  person  was  taken  from  the  burning 
;wreck  and  laid  upon  the  ground  under  the  pouring 
sleet  and  snow.  There  was  no  time  to  ascertain 
whether  they  were  living  or  dead,  for  there  were 
ethers  to  be  saved.  Overcoats  were  thrown  over  the 
Women  until  the  supply  was  exhausted,  and  the  others 
were  forced  to  take  their  chances  with  the  uncon¬ 
scious  men. 

It  was  a  night  to  be  remembered  through  all  ages, 
>  It  is  singular  with  what  wonderful  rapidity  bad 
news  flies,  sometimes  apparently  without  any  means 
cf  transportation  whatever.  No  one  knew  how  they; 
heard  the  news,  but  very  soon  lanterns  were  seen  to 
flicker  through  the  pitchy  darkness.  There  were 
hasty  orders  given  by  the  recruits,  and  the  work  went 
on  with  renewed  energy. 

But  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  The  flames  were 
gaining!  But  a  few  more  bodies,  dead  or  alive,  could 
be  rescued,  and  then  the  effort  must  be  abandoned. 

A  noble  man  with  eyebrows  and  lashes  burned 
from  his  face  was  making  a  heroic  endeavor  to  ex¬ 
tricate  a  body  from  under  one  of  the  burning  seats 
that  held  it  firmly.  His  hands  were  blistered,  but  he 
would  not  yield  to  pain,  and  with  an  effort  born  of 
fury  he  tore  the  broken  seat  aside  and  lifted  the  small 
form  in  his  arms. 

“Poor  child !”  he  muttered.  “I  did  my  best,  but 
it  is  too  late.  I  wonder  what  mother  will  weep  for 
her  P 

He  laid  her  tenderly  upon  the  ground  and  turned 
tp  sutvev  the 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  65 

There  was  nothing  more  that  could  be  done.  Human 
aid  was  powerless. 

The  dark,  motionless  figures  of  the  men  stood  there 
■for  a  moment  surveying  the  ruins  under  the  still  glar¬ 
ing  light  of  the  fire,  then  wearily  turned  to  their  self- 
imposed  charges. 

i  “What  are  we  to  do  with  these  people?”  some  one 
asked,  in  stentorian  tones,  the  uncanny  sound  of  the 
voice,  making  every  one  shiver.  “Is  there  any  one 
here  who  knows  the  country?” 

“My  house  is  just  up  the  hill,”  answered  a  man 
whose  face  no  one  could  see.  “It  is  large,  and  at 
the  service  of  the  people,  if  we  can  manage  to  get 
them  there.” 

But  there  was  no  question  of  “if”  with  those  great¬ 
hearted  men.  They  set  to  work  with  a  will  to  im¬ 
provise  stretchers,  and  some  with  them,  others  carry¬ 
ing  their  heavy  burdens  in  their  arms,  they  followed 
the  faint  flicker  of  a  lantern,  and  staggered  up  the 
hill  to  the  handsome  house  at  the  top. 

The  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  with  surprising 
rapidity  the  house  was  converted  into  a  temporary; 
hospital  as  well  as  morgue. 

The  beds  were  utilized  for  those  who  were  most 
hurt  until  the  supply  was  exhausted,  the  dead  were 
placed  upon  chairs  or  upon  the  floor,  and  the  wreck 
in  the  ravine  left  to  itself  until  the  light  c £  morning 
would  allow  the  men  to  finish  their  work  for  the  dead. 

The  women  of  the  household,  as  well  as  those  who 
had  escaped  comparatively  unhurt  from  the  accident, 
worked  with  a  will  under  the  direction  of  three  phy¬ 
sicians  who  were  upon  the  train,  and  what  service 


60 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


human  aid  could  give  was  rendered  to  these  suffering 
beings. 

One  of  the  ladies  of  the  house  bent  with  a  physician 
over  a  tiny,  childish  body  that  lay  upon  a  couch. 

“Do  you  think  she  is  dead,  doctor?”  she  asked, 
glancing  into  his  anxious,  puzzled  face. 

“No,”  he  answered;  “she  is  not  dead,  but  it  is  im¬ 
possible  to  tell  just  yet  how  badly  hurt  she  is.” 

“I  am  glad  she  is  not  dead,  at  all  events.  She  is 
so  beautiful!  It  would  be  a  terrible  blow  to  her 
mother.” 

“And  to  her  husband,  perhaps.” 

“Her  husband?” 

“Yes;  she  is  married,  I  think.  Will  you  examine 
her  while  !  am  waiting  upon  the  others,  and  see  if 
there  is  anything  by  which  she  can  be  identified  ?” 

As  Mrs.  Jeffers  bent  over  the  white  face  upon  the 
sofa  pillow  she  fancied  she  saw  a  crimson  glow  in 
the  cheeks.  A  moment  later  she  was  convinced  that 
she  was  not  mistaken,  for  the  great  eyes  were  opened 
and  fixed  upon  her. 

There  was  a  minute  of  bewilderment,  then  the 
little  figure  sat  up. 

“I  remember  now,”  she  said,  piteously,  passing 
her  hand  across  her  eyes.  “It  was  an  accident  to 
the  train,  was  it  not?” 

“Yes,”  answered  Mrs.  Jeffers,  tenderly.  “Are  you 
much  hurt?  What  seems  to  be  the  matter  with  you?” 

‘‘Nothing.  I  am  dazed,  that  is  ail.  Was  any  one 
hurt?” 

“It  was  frightful!  But  you  must  not  ask  me  any 
questions  now.  Lie  down.  You  are  very  weak  and 
white,  and  may  not  be  so  well  as  you  think.  To- 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  671 

tfi orrow  you  shall  know  everything  that  I  can  tell 
you.” 

“But  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not  know  now. 
I  am  not  hurt.” 

“There  are  numbers  killed  outright.  You  are  very 
fortunate  to  have  escaped  with  your  life.  But  now 
will  you  not  tell  me  your  name  and  where  we  can 
telegraph  to  your  friends?  You  know  the  news  of 
the  disaster  will  be  in  the  papers  to-morrow,  and  your 
family  will  be  anxious  concerning  you  unless  they 
know  that  you  are  quite  safe.” 

A  crimson  glow  again  covered  the  girl’s  face. 

“There  is  no  one  to  whom  you  could  telegraph,” 
she  answered,  huskily. 

“Not  your  husband?” 

There  was  momentary  hesitation  upon  the  part  of 
the  girl  then  with  downcast  eyes  she  answered, 
faintly : 

“He  is  dead.” 

“Poor  child — poor  little  helpless  thing!  You  are 
very  young  for  that.” 

The  sad  eyes  that  were  lifted  to  the  woman's  face 
filled  with  tears.  There  was  an  instant  of  hesitation, 
then  Mrs.  Jeffers  leaned  over  and  kissed  the  sweet, 
childish  lips. 

.•  The  girl  arose  immediately. 

J  “You  see  I  am  quite  recovered,”  she  said,  hurriedly, 
“If  there  are  others  hurt,  let  me  help  you  with  them.” 

And  knowing  that  there  were  so  few  to  do  what 
;was  required  to  be  done,  Mrs.  Jeffers  consented. 

Together  the  two  left  the  room  and  entered  the 
great  drawing-room,  which  for  the  time  had  been 
converted  into  a  dead-house. 


68 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Near  the  door,  upon  two  chairs,  lay  a  girl,  part  of 
her  hair  streaming  across  her  face,  which  was  burned 
until  absolutely  unrecognizable.  Her  clothes  had 
been  burned  from  the  poor  blistered  body,  which  was 
protected  by  a  sheet  thrown  across  it. 

As  Mrs.  Jeffers  with  her  companion  entered  the; 
room,  a  few  persons  were  standing  beside  the  corpse,1 
one  man  with  a  pencil  and  paper  in  his  hand,  evi-- 
dently  the  reporter  for  a  paper. 

Some  one  said  in  an  undertone,  as  the  two  ladies 
entered : 

“That  young  lady  can  identify  her.  They  were 
traveling  together.” 

The  young  man  turned. 

For  a  moment  the  room  swam  before  the  eyes  of 
the  girl.  She  knew  that  a  question  was  being  put 
to  her,  but  a  giddiness  that  was  almst  unconsciousness 
overcame  her,  and  she  staggered  against  the  door. 
She  had  realized  in  an  instant  what  had  happened, 
and  as  the  question  was  asked,  her  resolution  was 
taken. 

“Can  you  tell  us  who  this  lady  is?” 

“Yes,”  she  answered,  faintly.  “Tier  name  is  Car- 
roll  Melbourne.  She  is  from  New  York.” 


Chapter  XI. 


I 

1 


The  audacity  of  her  own  falsehood  left  Carroll 
Millbourne  weak  and  trembling,  leaning  against  the 
wall  for  the  support  that  her  limbs  refused  her. 

She  had  given  that  dead  girl  her  name — that  poor 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


69 


creature  of  whose  identity  she  was  entirely  unaware, 
knowing  that  her  friends  would  accept  the  statement 
as  correct,  knowing  that  there  was  scarcely  a  chance 
that  she  should  be  detected  in  the  fraud,  for  the  face 
was  burned  beyond  recognition,  while  not  an  atom  of 
her  original  clothing  remained  upon  the  poor  charred 
body.  There  was  the  hair  left,  to  be  sure,  and  the 
stature  remained  the  same;  but  she  had  before  re¬ 
marked  how  nearly  like  her  own  they  were.  She 
knew,  therefore  that  in  so  far  as  her  mother  and  those 
whom  she  had  left  behind  were  concerned,  she  would 
be  as  dead  when  that  lifeless  body  was  sent  them  as 
if  it  were  in  reality  Carroll  Melbourne  who  would 
lie  in  the  grave  that  they  would  prepare. 

She  Was  not  slow  to  recognize  the  deliverance  that 
God  had  sent,  and  while  she  deplored  the  necessity  of 
falsehood,  she  thanked  Him  for  sending  her  away  to 
save  herself  a  greater  sin. 

“Can  you  give  me  her  address ?r  asked  the  reporter* 
kindly. 

It  was  given  in  faint,  trembling  tones ;  then  some 
one  noticed  how  white  she  had  grown  under  the  emo¬ 
tion  that  had  overtaken  her.  An  arm  was  thrown 
about  her  and  she  was  led  from  the  room. 

It  was  not  until  she  was  placed  upon  the  same  sofa 
in  the  library  upon  which  she  had  returned  to  con¬ 
sciousness  that  Carroll  raised  her  eyes  to  the  face  of 
her  companion ;  but  naturally  given  to  thinking  quickly, 
she  had  already  reviewed  the  situation  with  singular 
clearness. 

The  woman  beside  her  was  beyond  the  prime,  but 
the  silver  hair  framed  a  countenance  of  peculiar 
beauty,  if  of  peculiar  firmness.  There  was  not  a 


70 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


weak  line  in  the  aristocratic  old  face,  unless  tender* 
ness  and  gentleness  could  be  classed  as  weakness. 
There  was  an  expression  of  pride  in  the  well-cut  lips 
that  impressed  Carroll  even  in  her  nervous  condition, 
but  instinctively  she  felt  that  she  could  trust  the  lady 
who  held  her  hands  so  kindly. 

“The  little  girl  in  the  other  room  is  your  sister,  is 
she  not  ?”  the  woman  asked. 

“No,  madame,”  answered  Carroll,  endeavoring  to 
speak  distinctly,  though  her  voice  trembled  piteously. 
“.We  were  no  relation  whatever.” 

“You  were  close  friends,  then?” 

“Not  even  that.  I  never  saw  her  until  yesterday. 
{We  were  traveling  together  because  we  were  going 
to  the  same  place  to  try  to  make  our  way  in  the  world. 
It  was  a  venture  with  both  of  us,  therefore  we  were 
somewhat  confidential.” 

“You  are  going  to  fill  some  position,  then?” 

“I  am  going  to  try.  I  am  afraid  I  am  very  ignor¬ 
ant  for  anything  of  that  sort  ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
there  should  always  be  something  for  willing  hands 
to  do.” 

“There  is  no  definite  position,  then?” 

“Oh,  no.  I  am  going  to  try  to  get  work,  that  is  all.”f 

“But  you  are  very  young  to  be  alone  in  the  world 
and  dependent  upon  yourself.”  1 

A  wan  smile  made  Carroll's  face  extremely  beau¬ 
tiful. 

“I  am  not  so  young  as  I  look.  My  youthful  ap¬ 
pearance  has  always  been  against  me.” 

“Not  so  much  as  your  beauty  will  be  in  the  life  to 
which  you  are  going.  What  can  you  do  ?” 

“.Very  little,  I  am  afraid.” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


71 


“You  must  pardon  me  for  questioning  you  so 
closely;  but  there  may  be  something  that  I  can  do  to 
assist  you,  and  in  that  event  I  should  be  very  glad. 
1  was  on  the  same  train  with  you  last  night,  though 
I  don’t  believe  we  were  in  the  same  car,  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  it  is  a  duty  I  owe  to  God  for  having 
allowed  me  to  escape  that  I  should  do  something 
for  one  of  His  creatures  in  return.” 

“God  has  been  doubly  good  to  me  in  that  He  spared 
my  life  and  sent  me  you.  I  can  not  sufficiently  thank 
you,  madame.” 

“Don’t  try  yet,  as  I  have  done  nothing  for  which 
to  be  thanked;  but  let  us  go  over  a  list  of  your  ac¬ 
complishments — sort  of  schedule,  so  to  speak,”  said 
the  lady,  with  a  peculiarly  winning  smile.  “You  say 
you  must  make  your  own  living.  Now  what  can  you 
do?” 

A  puzzled  expression  crossed  Carroll’s  face. 

“I  am  very  ignorant,”  she  said,  helplessly.  “Let 
me  see — I  can  sew  fairly  well,  and —  and—” 

She  paused  and  glanced  into  the  woman’s  face  ap¬ 
pealingly. 

“Can  you  read  aloud  well?” 
j  “Tolerably  well.” 

“Can  you  sing?” 

“I  can  sing,  but  can  not  play.  We  have  always 
been  poor,  and  my  voice  is  not  cultivated,  save  in  so 
far  as  my  father  was  able  to  teach  me,  and  that  was 
very  little.” 

“Do  you  speak  any  of  the  languages?” 

“French  a  little.  My  mother  spoke  it  well,  but  she 
was  ill  so  much  that  she  had  small  opportunity  of 
teaching  me.  I  think  I  read  it  better  than  I  sneak  it;” 


72 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“That  is  good.  What  kind  of  a  position  did  you 
expect  to  fill  when  you  reached  your  destination — that 
is,  for  what  should  you  have  applied?” 

A  shade  of  bewilderment  crossed  Carroll's  brow. 
In  truth,  she  had  not  thought  at  all;  but  she  dared 
not  tell  this  practical  woman  that.  With  some  em¬ 
barrassment  she  answered : 

“I  suppose  there  would  have  been  nothing  for  it 
but  to  have  gone  to  an  employment  agency  and  have 
taken  anything  that  was  given  me.” 

The  lady  shook  her  head  dubiously. 

“A  most  uncertain  dependence,”  she  said,  quietly. 
“How  should  you  like  to  go  home  with  me?  It  will 
be  very  easy  to  try  you  and  see  in  what  way  you  can 
be  useful ;  then  if  the  plan  fails,  neither  you  nor  I  will 
be  worse  off  than  before.” 

Carroll’s  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

“I  don’t  know  how  I  have  deserved  this  kindness,” 
she  said,  brokenly. 

“Then  you  accept?” 

“Most  gladly.” 

“At  least  you  will  be  safe  with  me  for  the  time, 
and  if  there  is  nothing  that  we  can  do  I  can  advise 
you  as  to  the  future.” 

“I  will  try  very  hard  to  please  you  in  any  position 
in  which  you  may  place  me.” 

No  one  could  look  into  the  honest  little  face  and 
doubt  that. 

“I  am  sure  of  that.  But  we  have  made  all  these 
arrangements  without  even  knowing  each  other’s 
names.  I  am  Mrs.  Shannon.” 

Zt  hurt  Carroll  grievously  to  be  compelled  to  begin 
tier  new  life  with  this  kind  woman  with  a  He;  but* 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


73 


in  order  to  save  her  mother  the  shame  that  had  already; 
ruined  her  own  life  she  knew  that  it  must  be  done. 

Her  eyes  fell;  but  she  raised  them  bravely,  and 
answered,  without  a  tremor  in  her  voice : 


“My  name  is  Coralie — Coralie  Mills.  I  am  a  wid¬ 


ow. 


\  “Coralie!  That  is  very  pretty  and  suited  to  you. 
j There  is  just  another  thing  that  we  have  not  men¬ 
tioned:  were  you  going  to  the  destination  which  you 
had  chosen  for  any  special  reason  ?” 

“No” 


“Then  you  will  not  mind  changing  it?” 

“Not  in  the  least.” 

“That  is  well.  We  live  in  Philadelphia,  my  son 
and  I,  and  have  decided  since  the  wreck,  and  in  con¬ 
sideration  of  the  fact  that  all  our  baggage  was  burned 
in  the  baggage-car,  that  we  will  return  there  at  once. 
You  will  not  object,  then,  to  accompanying  us?” 

“I  shall  only  be  too  glad.” 

“Then  that  is  settled.” 

Mrs.  Shannon  arose  with  a  smile.  She  had  taken 
a  great  fancy  to  the  girl  whose  future  she  had  taken 
into  her  own  hands,  and  it  was  with  something  like 
a  gratification  of  pride  that  she  looked  upon  her 
beauty.  She  was  standing  with  Carroll's  hand  still 
clasped  in  hers  when  the  door  opened  and  a  young 
man  entered. 

He  was  handsome,  after  the  blonde  fashion  of  the 
Norsemen,  and  filled  the  idea  perfectly  in  so  far  as 
his  form  and  features  were  concerned.  Women  raved 
over  Russell  Shannon,  perhaps  one  reason  being  his 
proverbial  indifference  to  them  all.  It  was  that  very 
fact  which  prevented  any  misgivings  in  the  mind  of 


74 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


his  mother  when  she  proposed  taking  the  beautiful 
but  unknown  girl  into  her  household  as  a  member  of 
her  family. 

There  was  no  danger  to  Russell,  and  the  mother 
turned  to  him  without  a  thought  of  fear  in  her  proud 
pld  head. 

“The  train  leaves  for  New  York  at  four,  mother 
he  said  to  her,  in  a  slow,  musical  voice.  “Shall 
you  be  ready?” 

“Yes,”  she  answered,  smiling  at  him  fondly.  “We 
shall  not  go  alone,  however.  The  wreck  has  given  us 
an  addition  to  our  lonely  household,  and  I  am  sure 
you  will  feel  as  glad  to  have  a  young  person  in  it  as 
1  shall.  Let  me  introduce  you.  Mrs.  Mills,  my  son, 
Mr.  Shannon.” 

Russell  Shannon  bowed  coldly  ;  then,  as  his  eyes 
Tested  on  the  beautiful  face,  the  expression  changed  to 
one  of  intense  interest,  that  might  have  aroused  some 
alarm  in  his  keen-sighted  mother’s  eyes  had  she 
been  looking,  but  she  was  gazing  at  Carroll,  and  the 
unmoved  countenance  pleased  her. 

Her  only  fear  had  been  for  Carroll,  not  her  son; 
but,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  that  thought  was  removed. 

How  strangely  the  future  convinced  her  of  her 
own  short-sightedness  God  alone  foresaw  then. 


Chapter  XII. 


“Bad  news  flies  swiftly,”  and  the  old  trite  saying 
Was  never  more  fully  verified  than  upon  the  occa¬ 
sion  when  New  York  awoke  the  following  morning 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


75 


with  the  news  of  the  great  Hudson  River  disaster. 

It  was  cried  upon  the  streets  by  diligent  newsboys 
in  connection  with  the  printed  story  of  the  terrible 
storm;  but  none  of  the  persons  in  whom  we  are 
most  interested  paid  any  heed.  What  had  they  to  do 
with  the  Hudson  River  disaster?  Their  own  grief 
was  surely  great  enough  without  their  weeping  for 
others  at  that  time. 

Mrs.  Millbourne  remained  during  the  night  with 
Miss  Kingman,  while  Hilliard  made  two  pilgrimages 
to  the  tenement  to  make  sure  that  Carroll  had  not  re¬ 
turned  there,  but  each  time  his  fears  became  even 
greater  than  before.  There  was  nothing  like  sleep 
possible  for  any  one  of  them  while  Carroll's  fate  re¬ 
mained  a  mystery,  and  it  is  doubtful  it  they  even 
thought  of  it. 

They  made  some  pretense  of  eating  breakfast;  then, 
as  he  arose  from  the  table,  Hilliard  announced  his 
intention  of  going  at  once  to  the  police  station  to  see 
if  there  had  been  any  discoveries  made  there.  Mrs. 
Millbourne  returned  to  her  own  home  accompanied  by 
Miss  Kingman,  as  she  knew  that  to  that  place  Carroll 
would  come,  if  at  all,  and  her  wild  grief  and  intense 
nervousness  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  remain 
longer  away. 

Hilliard  could  scarcely  have  described  his  own  emo¬ 
tions  as  he  entered  that  little  office,  fearful  of  the 
worst,  yet  hoping  against  hope  for  the  best;  but  his 
heart  seemed  choking  him  as  he  stood  before  the  ser¬ 
geant's  desk,  utterly  incapable  of  putting  his  question. 

But  the  man,  though  he  was  not  the  same  one  who 
had  been  upon  duty  during  the  night,  seemed  to  under:-* 
stand. 


-76 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“Are  you  Mr.  Hilliard?’7  he  asked. 

“Yes.” 

“You  have  seen  the  man  whom  we  sent  over  to 
you  ?” 

“No.” 

The  word  was  almost  inaudible,  so  great  was  the 
anxiety  underlying  it. 

*  The  sergeant  paused;  he  was  so  little  given  to 
sympathy  in  that  life  where  the  people  he  met,  as 
usual,  were  such  hardened  wretches ;  but  this  man  was 
different,  and  he  was  suffering. 

“You  have — heard?”  stammered  Hilliard,  unable  to 
endure  the  silence. 

“Yes.  There  is  always  a  doubt  of  its  being  true, 
you  know,  and  you  must  not  abandon  hope  until  there 
is  none.  Have  you  read  your  paper  this  morning?” 

“No.” 

“There  has  been  a  terrible  accident  on  the  Hudson 
River  Railroad.” 

“An  accident?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well?” 

Hilliard’s  face  was  ghastly.  He  seemed  to  under¬ 
stand  but  too  well  what  was.  meant,  but  he  would  not 
allow  himself  to  believe.  He  listened  with  a  strained 
breathless  horror  that  was  piteous. 

“The  cars  were  blown  from  a  trestle-work  and 
then  took  fire.  There  are  a  great  number  of  killed 
and  wounded ;  more  killed  than  they  know  of  at  pre¬ 
sent,  as  all  the  bodies  have  not  yet  been  extricated.” 

“Yes,”  very  quietly. 

“Will  you  look  at  this?” 

The  sergeant  reached  under  his  desk  and  drew: 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


n 

forth  a  morning  paper.  He  pointed  to  that  fatal 
column  “Killed,”  and  gradually  ran  his  finger  down 
ithe  column  until  it  rested  upon  the  lines :  < ,< 

“Miss  Carroll  Melbourne;  pinioned  by  a  broken 
seat  and  almost  cremated.  Clothes  entirely  de¬ 
stroyed.”  I  f 

Hilliard  saw  nothing  further.  After  all,  what  dif¬ 
ference  did  anything  else  in  the  world  make  to  him? 
Carroll  was  dead !  >  £ 

He  leaned  against  the  sergeant’s  desk,  white  and 
trembling,  not  a  murmur  escaping  his  pallid  lips.  Ifi 
seemed  to  him  that  the  end  of  the  world  had  come, 
and  nothing  mattered  after  that.  Then  he  became 
aware,  in  that  dazed  way  that  each  of  us  must  have 
felt  under  some  great  crisis  in  our  own  lives,  that  the 
sergeant  was  speaking  to  him.  |  -• 

“You  don’t  know  that  it  is  true,”  he  was  saying. 
“The  station  where  the  accident  happened  is  not  far 
from  here.  Why  don’t  you  take  a  friend  with  you 
and  run  up  there?  You  see,  they  say  she  was  almost 
cremated;  might  there  not  be  some  mistake?” 

Hilliard  shook  his  head.  His  voice  bore  no  simi¬ 
larity  to  his  own  as  he  replied: 
i  “It  is  not  likely.  How  could  they  have  got  tha 
name  ?” 

The  sergeant  was  silent. 

“Good-day,  sergeant,”  he  said,  heavily.  “I  shall 
see  you  again  as  soon  as  it  can  be  done.” 

“You  are  going  up  there?” 

;  “Yes.” 

The  man  looked  after  him  as  he  went  down  the 
short  flight  of  steps  and  into  the  street,  then  turned 
to  an  officer  beside  him. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


7b 

“That  fellow  got  it  in  the  heart  that  time,”  he 
said,  with  genuine  feeling.  “I  never  saw  a  man  feel 
(anything  more  keenly.  God  help  him !  I  lost  a 
sweetheart  myself  once.”  ¥ 

Almost  without  knowing  what  he  did,  Hilliard 
(walked  swiftly  in  the  direction  of  the  Grand  Gen-] 
tral  Depot.  Arrived  there  he  bought  his  ticket,  then 
sent  a  messenger  with  a  simple  note  to  Mrs.  Mill- 
bourne,  telling  her  he  had  found  some  trace,  but  that 
was  all.  He  took  his  place  in  the  train  with  bowed, 
head,  knowing  that  he  was  going  to  bring  home  the 
body  of  the  girl  whom  he  had  so  loved,  knowing  that 
he  should  find  her  there  and  that  she  was  lost  to  him 
forever,  yet  betraying  his  emotion  by  never  a  word. 

The  most  careless  observer  could  have  told  how  he 
Was  suffering;  his  most  intimate  friend  would  not 
have  approached  him  under  the  sorrow  that  he  must 
have  recognized. 

The  conductor  felt  for  him  when  he  arrived  at  the 
station,  knowing  by  intuition  what  he  was  going  there 
for,  for  there  were  others  upon  the  train  with  that 
same  wretched  mission  before  them.  There  were  car¬ 
riages  to  meet  them,  provided  by  the  kindness  and 
thoughtfulness  of  the  Jeffers  family,  and  almost  as  if| 
they  were  following  the  lifeless  bodies  themselves,  the' 
carriages  wound  slowly  up  the  hill. 

Ballard  Hilliard  did  not  hesitate.  With  bared  head 
be  walked  into  the  room  where  a  number  of  impro¬ 
vised  biers  were  standing,  spectral  with  their  white 
draperies  in  the  shadowy  light. 

He  spoke  the  name  of  the  one  he  had  come  to 
seek  in  the  ear  of  the  attendant,  wrho  led  him  across 
the  room  and  very  gently  turned  the  sheet  from  an  up- 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


73 


turned  face  that  was  still  covered  by  a  handkerchief* 
How  well  he  remembered  the  beautiful  reddish-' 
gold  of  that  sunny  head.  He  turned  from  it  for  a 
moment,  his  heart  seeming  strangled  by  a  groan.  It 
was  the  first  that  had  escaped  him,  and  was  quickly 
suppressed.  He  would  have  removed  the  handker* 
chief,  but  the  attendant  stopped  him.  \ 

“Don’t  do  it,  sir!”  he  exclaimed.  66  It  would  only 
make  it  all  the  worse  for  you  to  bear.  She  was  so 
badly  burned  that  even  the  doctors  were  horrified. 
Don’t  remember  her  like  that,  sir,  if  you  ever  loved 
her!” 

If  he  ever  loved  her!  How  like  bitterest  mockery 
the  words  seemed  to  him !  If  only  he  could  have  ex¬ 
changed  places  with  her  there,  or  have  lain  beside  her, 
life  would  have  seemed  less  hard ;  but  he  must  bear  it 
like  a  man.  That  was  what  she  would  have  wished, 
and  he  knew  it.  j 

He  gave  the  orders  for  Aer  removal  home,  attended 
to  every  minute  detail;  then  knowing  that  all  was 
done  that  could  be  done,  he  t$>ok  the  train  home — the 
same  train  that  carried  the  little  form  for  whom  he 
was  grieving— to  tell  the  story  to  that  mother  whose 
heart  he  knew  would  break. 

If  he  could  have  known  that  in  the  next  car  to  him 
the  real  Carroll  Melbourne  sat  alive  and  well,  his 
life — the  months  of  weary  misery  that  followed — * 
would  have  been  very  different;  but  Providence,  if 
always  wise,  is  not  always  kind  and  neither  knew  efi 
the  other’s  proximity. 

Plilliard  was  striving,  even  in  the  first  hours  of  his 
blinding  grief,  to  fix  upon  some  reason  for  her  leaving 
home ;  but  he  could  find  none.  Since  he  had  discovered 


$0 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


tliat  she  would  have  nothing  further  to  do  with 
him,  he  had  let  her  alone,  though  his  heart  had  re¬ 
mained  firm  in  its  allegiance.  He  had  even  written  to 
her  that,  if  it  were  her  will,  the  secret  should  be  pre¬ 
served  from  Miss  Kingman;  yet,  in  spite  of  all,  she 
had  gone. 

Then  the  last*  words  she  had  ever  written  him 
Caine  back  to  his  memory  with  singular  force: 

“I  could  not  be  happy,  even  in  my  grave,  know¬ 
ing  that  I  had  robbed  her.  If  you  would  make  me 
a  recompense  for  the  sorrow  you  have  caused  me  by 
your  silence,  go  on  with  your  marriage  to  her.  I  do 
not  blame  you,  dear ;  but  you  must  do  that  for  my 
sake.  It  is  the  last  request  that  I  shall  ever  make  of 
you.” 

j  And  it  was. 

!  iWhat  should  he  do  now?  All  the  nobility  of  the 
Woman  who  was  his  promised  wife  came  back  to  him. 
He  recalled  every  act  of  hers  of  the  night  before,  when 
his  conduct  must  have  appeared  most  strange  to  her. 
She,  too,  had  loved  Carroll;  and,  with  bowed  head 
and  heart  breaking  under  its,'  terrible  burden,  he  saw 
that  he  must  do  what  his  love  had  asked.  What 
mattered  his  life  now?  s 

And  his  resolution  was,  that  he  would  tell  her  part 
of  the  truth — not  all,  in  justice  to  Carroll — and  let 
her  decide  the  rest. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


81 


Chapter  XIII. 


Had  it  not  been  for  the  bitter  memory  of  the  past 
and  the  horrible  knowledge  of  what  the  future  held 
in  store  for  her,  Carroll  would  have  been  content  in 
the  new  home  into  which  it  seemed  that  God  had 
sent  her. 

Mrs.  Shannon  and  her  son  lived  alone  in  all  the 
luxury  of  wealth,  with  none  of  its  ostentation,  and 
from  the  beginning,  while  Carroll  had  her  regular 
duties  to  perform — they  were  not  menial — she  was 
made  one  of  them.  There  was  never  greater  kindness 
or  consideration  shown  a  stranger  than  she  received 
from  both,  and  her  lot,  all  things  considered,  seemed 
to  have  fallen  into  a  peculiarly  easy  groove.  She  had 
told  Mrs.  Shannon  little  of  her  former  life,  adhering 
as  strictly  to  the  truth  as  her  unfortunate  situation 
would  allow,  and  her  benefactress  had  asked  no  ques¬ 
tions  beyond  what  it  was  most  desirable  that  she 
should  know.  Coralie  Mills  had  been  married,  and 
her  husband  had  died  at  a  most  piteously  unfortunate 
lime,  and  that  alone  was  enough  to  insure  sympathy 
and  kindly  treatment  of  the  good  woman,  even  if  the 
girl’s  beauty  had  not  made  its  own  undeniable  impres¬ 
sion. 

But  there  was  a  cloud  upon  the  horizon — a  cloud 
that  was  to  obstruct  all  the  sun  in  Carroll’s  new  life, 
though  still  she  was  piteously  unconscious  of  it. 

She  had  been  in  her  new  quarters  scarcely  two 
months  wh en  the  storm  broke  cruelly,  fiercely  cut¬ 
ting  her  perhaps  with  almost  as  keen  sorrow  as  she 
had  ever  known,  from  her  very  innocence  of  wrong. 


82  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

One  duty  which  she  was  expected  to  perform  each 
day,  and  which  had  become  a  peculiar  pleasure  to 
her,  was  that  in  the  afternoon  she  should  read  to 
Mrs,  Shannon  for  a  couple  of  hours — sometimes 
poetry,  sometimes  romance — a  capacity  in  which  Car* 
roll  was  peculiarly  gifted.  One  afternoon  while  the 
reading  was  in  progress  Russell  Shannon  chanced  to 
come  into  the  room,  and,  fascinated  by  the  sound  of 
the  musical  voice,  he  sat  down  silently  behind  the 
reader  and  listened.  From  that  day  he  was  always 
present  during  those  hours  of  the  day.  His  mother 
generally  fell  asleep  at  the  end  of  the  time,  a  signal  to 
Carroll  that  her  duty  was  done,  and  that  her  time  was 
her  own. 

She  had  been  reading  upon  the  day  in  question  from 
a  popular  romance  in  which  the  heroine  quotes  an  ex¬ 
tract  from  a  little  poem  by  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox : 

“You  have  heard  me  quote  from  Plato 
A  thousand  times,  no  doubt; 

Well,  I  have  discovered  he  did  not  knew 
What  he  was  talking  about.” 

She  had  just  finished  the  line  when  the  gentlest 
and  most  refined  of  snores  told  her  that  Mrs.  Shan* 
non  slept.  She  closed  the  book,  placed  it  upon  the 
table,  arose,  and  with  a  faint  smile  thrown  to  the  son 
of  her  benefactress,  she  silently  left  the  room.  Her 
own  chamber  offered  little  attraction  to  divert  her 
(from  her  reflections,  and  she  sought  the  little  conser¬ 
vatory  instead ;  for  is  there  not  something  in  the  com* 
panionship  of  flowers  that  sweetens  solitude?  She 
wandered  among  them  for  a  while,  then  sat  down  be-* 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


8 3 


side  a  great  Japanese  lily  of  singular  beauty,  seeing 
nothing.  Her  arms  rested  upon  the  back  of  the  seat, 
her  head  was  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  window. 
She  was  evidently  musing  too  deeply  to  hear  the  light 
footfall  behind  her,  for  her  lips  moved,  and  the  words 
she  had  read  fell  from  them : 
j 

“You  have  heard  me  quote  from  Plato 
A  thousand  times,  no  doubt; 

Well,  I  have  discovered  he  did  not  know 
What  he  was  talking  about.” 

' 

Her  voice  died  away  slowly,  and  she  was  startled 
to  hear  some  one  say : 

“Don’t  you  think  Mrs.  Wilcox  struck  the  keynote 
of  a  great  truth  when  she  wrote  those  lines  ?  Do  you 
believe  that  there  can  be  anything  like  platonic  friend* 
ship  between  man  and  woman  ?”  ,  j. 

She  glanced  up,  though  she  had  already  recognized 
the  voice.  It  was  Russell  Shannon  who  stood  there. 
There  was  an  expression  upon  his  face  such  as  she 
had  not  seen  there  before;  but  it  did  not  alarm  her. 
She  answered  very  gently: 
j  “Yes,  I  believe  in  friendship.  Do  not  you?” 

He  shook  his  head. 

i  “Not  that  kind.  A  man  is  too  indifferent  for  3 
friend,  or  too  passionate.  Certainly  there  is  a  sort 
of  careless  well-wishing  between  the  sexes,  an  occas¬ 
ional  visit,  perhaps,  some  trifling  attention,  forgotten 
as  soon  as  given;  but  not  that  kind  of  friendship — • 
not  the  kind  that  sacrifices,  that  endures  through  alf 
ages.  That  is  love.  Do  you  think  a  man  always 
knows  the  moment  that  interest  alters  to  love?” 


84 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Carroll  was  looking  at  him  without  seeing  him. 
Her  memory  had  reverted  to  that  sweet  time  when 
for  those  few  months  she  had  been  so  blissfully  happy. 
[Was  there  ever  a  time  when  she  did  not  recognize  that 
great  love?  Ah,  dear  God!  how  her  heart  yearned 
over  it !  .Was  it  to  be  wondered  at  then  that  her  face 
assumed  a  dreamy  tenderness  that  deceived  her  list¬ 
ener  ? 

“Does  it  ever?”  she  questioned,  in  an  undertone 
filled  with  emotion.  “It  seems  to  me  that  love  is  born 
upon  the  instant.  It  knows  no  past,  recognizes  no 
future,  lives  alone  in  the  present.  It  is  sufficient  unto 
itself.  There  is  but.  one  holier  creation  of  God,  and 
that  is  gratitude.” 

Russell  Shannon  was  stirred  to  the  very  depths  of 
his  heart.  How  was  he  to  understand  that  she  was 
speaking  to  a  memory  and  not  to  him  ?  He  knew  that 
he  loved  that  girl-wife,  who  was  so  recently  widowed, 
and,  man-like,  her  sorrow  but  endeared  her  to  him. 
He  had  misunderstood  her  -words. 

“Love  knows  no  past.” 

That  was  the  expressed  thought  that  was  her  undo¬ 
ing. 

He  took  the  seat  beside  her  and  slipped  his  arm 
about  her  waist,  his  countenance  filled  with  a  manly- 
chivalrous  devotion  that  was  an  honor  to  any  woman. 

“Coralie,”  he  whispered,  “I  know  that  I  have  done 
little  to  deserve  the  love  of  any  woman.  I  may  be 
speaking  to  you  with  brutal  suddenness,  but  if  love  is 
born  like  that,  surely  I  may  be  forgiven.  Darling, 
have  you  never  suspected — ” 

But  she  shrank  from  him  in  fear  and  trembling. 

“Don’t!”  she  gasped,  feebly,  putting  up  her  hands 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  85 

as  if  to  ward  off  a  blow — “ don't,  for  the  love  of 
Heaven!  You  don’t  know  what  you  are  saying! 
iVVhat  do  you  know  of  me  that  you  should — ” 
t  She  paused,  unable  to  continue,  and  he  finished  the 
sentence  for  hen 

'“That  I  should  ask  you  to  become  my  wife?  I 
know  that  I  love  you.  Is  it  not  enough  ?  Ah,  don’t ! 
Do  you  think  I  do  not  understand?  You  have  suf¬ 
fered  bitterly,  cruelly,  perhaps ;  but  that  only  endears 
you  to  me.  See,  I  ask  no  questions.  I  am  more  than 
willing  to  trust  you.  You  shall  have  your  own  time. 
Only  tell  me  that  some  day  you  will  be  my  wife,  and 
I  shall  be  content  to  wait.”. 

For  the  first  time  during  those  awful  months  of 
suffering  Carroll  was  weeping.  Her  whole  heart 
seemed  melting  into  tears.  She  did  not  repulse  him 
as  he  drew  her  to  his  breast.  It  seemed  such  a  com¬ 
fort  to  rest  upon  the  bosom  of  one  whom  she  did 
not  fear.  She  allowed  him  to  soothe  her,  listened  as 
he  murmured  words  of  hope  and  consolation;  then 
she  lifted  her  glistening  eyes  to  his. 

“I  would  give  all  this  world,”  she  said,  brokenly, 
“if  I  were  but  worthy  of  your  love.  I  would  give 
my  life  if  I  might  but  answer  you  as  I  should  like; 
but  that  cannot  be.  I  can  never  be  your  wife — never! 
There  are  reasons  that  reach  higher  than  eternity  that 
will  stand  between  you  and  that  for  all  ages!” 

“Coralie !” 

“If  you  would  spare  me  a  grief  as  great  as  any 
that  I  have  ever  known,  never  speak  to  me  again  upon 
this  subject.  I  have  been  so  content  here.  Do  not 
make  it  necessary  that  I  should  go  out  into  the  world 
alone,  for  I  am  afraid.  1  am  so  helpless,  so  cruelly 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


alone,  and  oh,  God!  life  has  been  so  hard!’* 

Still  she  had  not  drawn  herself  from  his  embrace. 
There  was  nothing  in  it  beyond  the  expression  of  af- 
ifection  of  an  honest  man ;  there  was  not  a  shadow  of 
insult  in  the  encircling  arm.  It  was  but  a  tender  ex¬ 
pression  of  love,  that  was  all. 

"If  it  distresses  you,  dear  heart,  you  may  be  quite 
sure  that  the  subject  will  be  buried  in  my  own  bosom,” 
he  said,  softly;  “ but  there  will  come  a  time  when  you 
will  repent.  The  greatness  of  my  love  insures  that, 
and  when  that  time  comes  there  is  just  one  thing  that 
I  would  have  you  remember,  Coralie:  it  is  ‘that  a 
love  like  mine  can  know  no  death.’  When  you  have 
changed  toward  me — when  my  love  has  ceased  to  be 
a  burden  to  you,  you  will  come  to  me,  you  will  tell  me, 
you  will  trust  me,  will  you  not?” 

She  arose  and  stood  before  him,  her  eyes  still  shin¬ 
ing  under  her  tears. 

"I  will  trust  you  all  my  life  as  the  kindest,  most 
generous,  the  noblest  man  I  have  ever  known!”  she 
said,  brokenly. 

He  drew  her  to  him,  and  her  lips  touched  his  fore¬ 
head  with  the  simplicity  of  a  child ;  then  he  let  her  go. 

If  that  had  but-been  all!  But  it  was  not.  A  pair 
of  stern,  cold  eyes,  glittering  under  a  pride  that  was 
their  owner’s  single  and  besetting  sin,  had  witnessed 
the  latter  portion  of  the  scene,  and  had  seen  the  tears, 
had  heard  the  avowal  of  love  on  the  part  of  the  man, 
and  had  heard  the  answer — “I  will  trust  you  all  my 
life  as  the  kindest,  most  generous,  the  noblest  man 
I  have  ever  knowrn,”  was  her  own  construction  put 
upon  it. 

As  Carroll  left  the  conservatory,  a  heavy  hand  waa 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  87/ 

placed  upon  her  arm,  and  a  hoarse  voice  that  shq 
/scarcely  recognized  said  in  her  ear: 

>  “Come  with  me  to  the  library  ;  I  wish  to  speak  with 
you.”  si' 

The  poor  child  looked  into  Mrs.  Shannon’s  set  face, 
and  that  intuition  that  does  not  often  err  in  woman 
told  her  that  another  crisis  in  her  life  had  come,  the 
most  cruel  and  undeserved,  perhaps,  of  all. 


Chapter  XIV. 


•  All  through  the  miserable  days  that  followed  the 
discovery  of  her  daughter’s  supposed  death  and  the 
burial  of  that  unknown  girl  over  whom  such  passion- 
ate  tears  were  shed,  Ballard  Hilliard  was  more  like  3 
son  to  Millicent  Millbourne  than  anything  else. 

He  was  beside  her  constantly,  speaking  some  word 
of  consolation,  or  performing  some  little  act  of  kind¬ 
ness  that,  without  acknowledgement  upon  her  part, 
was  an  infinite  source  of  comfort  to  her.  She  had  not 
paused  to  question  herself  yet  as  to  its  cause.  Her 
grief  was  too  new  and  too  bitter  for  that.  She  simply] 
yielded  to  the  sweetness  of  feeling  that  she  was  not 
quite  alone  in  the  world — that  she  was  not  entirely 
without  friends,  and  indulged  her  sorrow.  ©  v 

And  Hilliard  found  the  greatest  comfort  in  minis¬ 
tering  to  her.  All  this  Geraldine  Kingman  watched 
in  silence.  If  her  great,  true  heart  ached  under  it, 
if  there  was  a  suspicion  aroused  in  her,  if  in  the  si¬ 
lence  of  her  own  chamber  at  night  she  grieved  over  a 
shattered  dream,  no  one  knew.  She  shut  it  up  in  hen 


88 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


bosom,  conscious  that  her  lamentations  could  effect 
nothing. 

She  was  as  kind — perhaps  kinder — to  Hilliard  than 
she  had  ever  been  before,  and  his  heart  smote  him 
as  he  saw  and  thoroughly  recognized  the  greatness  of 
her  generosity.  How  he  cursed  himself  for  the  past 
only  God  and  his  own  conscience  could  have  guessed ; 
but  it  was  beyond  recall;  and  when  his  grief  could  be 
dominated  by  reason  he  saw  that  he  must  bury  it  in 
the  grave  that  they  had  dug  for  his  dead  love. 

With  that  thought  uppermost  in  his  mind  he  went 
to  call  upon  Miss  Kingman  one  evening.  He  bent  and 
kissed  her  as  she  came  into  the  room — a  thing  which 
he  had  forgotten  to  do  of  late — but  she  did  not  repulse 
him.  On  the  contrary,  she  smiled  under  it,  and  did 
not  endeavor  to  disengage  her  hand  from  his  as  he 
drew  her  beside  him  upon  the  sofa. 

“I  am  glad  to  see  you  looking  better,  Ballard,”  she 
said  to  him,  gently.  “You  are  growing  more  like 
yourself  again.” 

His  face  flushed. 

“I  don’t  think  I  can  ever  be  like  my  old  self  in  one 
way,  Jerry,”  he  said,  using  the  old  pet  name  that  he 
had  used  to  her  in  childhood.  “I  should  have  to  lo.sef 
this  newr-found  appreciation  and  gratitude  to  be  that, 
and  that  would  take  something  that  is  most  sweet  out 
of  my  life.  Do  you  know  wdiat  I  mean,  Jerry?  Ah, 
dear,  how  little  I  have  known  you !  How  little  I  have 
guessed  the  real  worth  of  your  character!  How  little 
I  have  deserved  your  affection !” 

She  grew  crimson  under  the  pleasure  his  words 
gave  her.  There  was  nothing  that  she  could  answer. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  89 

To  disclaim  the  truth  of  his  statement  was  like  affec¬ 
tation,  and  there  was  nothing  else  to  be  said. 

“I  have  a  confession  to  make  to  you,  Jerry,”  he 
went  on,  after  a  pause — “ a  confession  that  should 
have  been  made  long  ago,  but  you  are  too  brave  to 
understand  how  an  unpleasant  duty  is  put  off  from 
one  day  to  another,  in  the  hope  that  it  will  come  easier 
at  some  future  time.  You  could  not  do  that.  You 
would  face  the  situation  at  once.” 

She  put  up  her  hand  with  a  little  gesture  of  depre¬ 
cation. 

“Oh,  hush!”  she  cried,  huskily.  “How  little  you 
know  me,  after  all!  I  am  not  brave,  but  the  greatest 
coward  under  heaven.  If  that  had  not  been  true,  do 
you  think  I  should  not  have  relieved  you  of  your  em¬ 
barrassment  long  ago?” 

“You  know  then?” 

She  hesitated  before  replying,  then  answered,  very 
softly : 

“I  have  suspected.” 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  disengaged  hand. 
There  were  no  tears  in  his  eyes  when  he  removed  it, 
but  she  felt  a  quivering  sigh  shake  his  entire  form. 

“Do  you  think  you  can  forgive  me,  Jerry?”  he 
whispered. 

“There  is  nothing  to  forgive,  Ballard,”  she  an¬ 
swered,  striving  to  steady  her  voice.  “You  were  not 
to  blame.  The  heart  is  the  one  organ  that  will  not 
be  held  in  subjection.  I  can  not  quite  understand  the 
situation,  but  the  only  fault  I  have  ever  found  was 
that  you  did  not  trust  me.  But  that  now  is  forgotten.” 

“Do  you  mean  that  there  can  no  longer  remain  be- 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


90 

tween  us  the  promise  that  was  given  in  the  old  days! 
Do  you  mean  that  you  will  not  be  my  wife?” 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  turned  to  him 
very  gravely.  j 

“Look  at  me,  dear,”  she  said,  quietly,  “and  as  yotf1 
value  your  life’s  happiness  and  mine,  conceal  notk^ 
ing  of  the  truth  from  me.  .What  is  your  own  desire; 
upon  the  subject?” 

“That  we  should  stand  by  the  old  pledge,  Jerry,  ifi 
you  think  it  will  ever  be  possible  for  you  to  trust  me>‘ 
again,”  he  answered,  earnestly. 

A  mist  came  before  her  eyes.  A  great  cry  of  thank¬ 
fulness  rose  in  her  heart,  but  there  was  little  display 
of  emotion  in  her  manner  to  him.  Tender,  gentle,  but 
not  demonstrative,  she  pressed  his  hand  slightly. 

“Then  your  wish  is  mine,  Ballard,”  she  replied. 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her. 

“I  have  not  deserved  this,”  he  said,  his  voice  break¬ 
ing  painfully;  “but  I  swear  to  you,  Jerry,  that  I  will 
do  everything  that  lies  in  my  power  to  make  you 
happy.  I  swear  that  if  the  devotion  of  my  whole  life 
can  be  reward  sufficient  for  your  generosity,  it  shall 
be  yours  forever i” 

“Don’t!”  she  cried,  desperately.  “You  make  me’ 
feel  such  a  hypocrite.  Do  you  think  that  it  is  alone 
because  of  you  that  I  have  decided  as  I  have?  If  it 
really  were  consideration  of  you,  I  should  have  said 
‘no’  out  of  kindness,  because  I  am  afraid  that  I  be¬ 
lieve  you  would  be  happier  without  a  wife ;  but  I  have 
not  the  courage  of  my  own  convictions.  I  love  you! 
It  sounds  unwomanly  and  indelicate  to  say  it  under 
circumstances  such  as  these,  but  it  is  my  own  selfish¬ 
ness  that  causes  me  to  accept  the  sacrifice  that  you  are 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


91 

tnaking.  Oh,  Ballard!  can't  you  see?  Can't  you  un¬ 
derstand?  If  there  were  another  woman  living  whom 
you  preferred  to  me,  I  should  release  you  without  a 
word;  but  as  there  is  not,  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  make 
your  life  a  comfort  to  you,  dear,  and  some  day  it  may 
not  seem  so  hard  as  it  does  just  at  present.” 
i  There  was  more  passion  in  her  speech  than  any 
he  had  ever  heard  her  mak^  and  the  depth  of  her  love 
astonished  him. 

“Is  it  possible,  Jerry,”  he  questioned,  wonderingly, 
“that  you  have  loved  me  like  that?” 

“Did  you  ever  doubt  it?” 

“I  never  suspected.  The  arrangement  was  made 
for  us,  and  you  seemed  always  to  me  to  have  yielded 
■ — well,  because  it  was  the  easiest  thing  to  do.  I  did 
not  think  that  my  affection  would  have  made  the  dif¬ 
ference  of  a  thought  in  your  life.” 

“Ballard!” 

She  had  faced  him  passionately,  all  the  glowing 
depths  of  her  nature  aroused  and  beaming  through 
her  burning  eyes. 

“Have  I  been  so  cold?”  she  asked,  earnestly.  “Have 
1  been  so  unresponsive  as  that  ?  Then  I  have  deserved 
what  I  have  received.  But,  oh,  dear,  you  have  been 
mistaken !  All  my  heart  and  soul  have  been  yours.  I 
have  loved  you  with  a  devotion  that  was  a  boundary 
line  for  every  other  emotion.  My  whole  self  was 
submerged  in  the  sea  of  my  affection — and  you  did 
not  know.” 

“Forgive  me.” 

“Oh,  yes!  Let  us  begin  again.  Let  me  teach  you 
that  I  am  not  the  creature  for  which  you  have  mis¬ 
taken  me,  who  could  give  myself  to  the  legalized 


92 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


crime  of  becoming  the  wife  of  a  man  whom  I  did  not 
love.  How  little  we  have  known  each  other,  after 
all." 

“But  you  have  not  yet  heard  all  that  I  have  to  say. 
I  must  tell  you  the  story  of  that  past  which  ought  to 
have  belonged  to  you.  I  must — ” 

“No,  I  beg  of  you ;  don’t  do  it.  I  want  to  feel  that 
I  have  trusted  you  without  explanation.” 

“But  there  is  danger,  Jerry.  Think  of  what  the 
future  might  contain.” 

“Nevertheless,  I  prefer  that  you  should  remain  si¬ 
lent.  Oh,  grant  me  this !  Let  that  episode  be  buried 
in  the  grave  with  her  whom  we  have  both  loved.  I 
don’t  want  you  to  feel  that  you  must  never  speak  of 
her  to  me  if  the  inclination  is  upon  you.  I  only  wish 
that  the  history  of  that  time  should  lie  with  you 
alone.” 

“It  is  not  wise,  Jerry!  it  is  not  best.” 

“Then  let  the  error  be  mine,  and  gratify  my  whim.” 

“Are  you  afraid?” 

“No;  but  I  had  rather  trust  you.” 

“I  must  yield;  but  I  do  it  with  reluctance.  ‘Perfect 
confidence  casteth  out  fear/  you  know.” 

She  kissed  him  upon  the  lips,  and  he  smiled  his 
gratitude. 

“You  will  be  my  wife  at  once,  Jerry?”  he  asked* 
softly. 

She  shook  her  head. 

“Nq,”  she  answered;  “we  must  each  have  time  to 
recover.  To  become  your  wife  now  would  be  most 
unwise.  We  must  have  time  to  forget.  We  are  going 
to  begin  anew,  you  know.  I  shall  not  expect  you  to 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  93 

play  the  lover  to  me  just  at  first.  You  must  teach  yout; 
heart  to  turn  to  me.” 

“But — ” 

“In  this  I  am  obstinate.  You  hold  my  promise:  in 
face  of  the  past,  Ballard;  but  you  must  wait,  deaf. 
In  the  summer,  when  the  flowers  are  in  bloom  again, 
then,  if  you  will  have  it  so,  I  will  be  your  wife.” 

“God  bless  you,  Jerry !” 


Chapter  XV. 


For  some  moments  after  their  entry  into  the  library; 
there  was  a  painful  silence  between  Mrs.  Shannon  and 
Carroll,  a  silence  which  Carroll  felt  she  dared  not 
break,  and  which  seemed  to  incense  the  proud  woman 
all  the  more. 

None  of  the  tenderness  and  gentleness  that  had  be¬ 
fore  characterized  her  manner  was  noticeable  then. 
She  was  cold  and  hard  and  stern  as  granite,  for  had 
she  not  received  a  cruel  blow  in  her  most  vulnerable 
point  ? 

She  took  a  seat  upon  the  sofa,  sitting  bolt  upright, 
with  her  hands  crossed  upon  her  lap,  after  motioning 
her  dependent  to  a  chair  before  her. 

]  “Coralie,”  she  said,  at  last,  her  voice  cold  with  thafi 
moisture  that  chills  like  ice,  “do  you  think  that  I  havd 
deserved  this  treatment?” 

The  swreet  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

“I  am  afraid  you  have  misunderstood  a  scene  which 
you  have  just  witnessed,  dear  Mrs.  Shannon,”  fal- 


94 


A  EITTLE  PRINCESS 


tered  the  girl.  “You  have  deserved  nothing  that  was 
not  most  honorable- from  me,  and  I  assure  you — ” 

There  was  a  gesture  indicating  a  desire  for  silence. 

“Don’t  add  falsehood  to  your  sin  against  me,”  ex¬ 
claimed  the  elder  woman,  even  more  frigidly.  “It  is 
Tinnecessary  and  hurtful.  I  saw  enough  to  quite  un-( 
derstand  what  has  been  taking  place  here  during  the 
hours  that  I  have  trusted  both  you  and  my  son.  I 
confess  to  as  great  a  disappointment  in  him  as  in  you, 
the  fault  being  equal.  But  it  seemed  to  me  that  you 
owed  me  something  more  than  this  ingratitude !” 

“Mrs.  Shannon,  I  beseech  you  to  listen  to  me!” 
cried  Carroll,  in  wild  distress.  “Upon  my  honor  there 
has  nothing  passed  between  me  and  your  son  that 
you  would  have  censured  either  of  us  for  if  you  had 
heard  all.  He  has  acted  the  part  of  an  honorable  man 
under  the  influence  of  a  most  unfortunate  love,  while 
I—” 

“Have  betrayed  the  trust  of  a  benefactress,”  inter¬ 
rupted  Mrs.  Shannon,  her  face  crimsoning  with  anger. 

“I  have  no  wish  to  say  anything  that  is  hard  to  you, 
Coralie ;  but  you  have  at  least  not  behaved  with  the 
ingenuousnesss  toward  me  that  I  had  the  right  to  ex¬ 
pect.  I  took  you  in  when  you  were  homeless  and  if 
friendless,  when  you  were  in  a  condition  in  which % 
few  women  would  have  received  you,  and  you. have  re-  • 
paid  me  by  endeavoring  to  entrap  my  son  into  an  en¬ 
tanglement  that  is  a  disgrace  "both  to  him  and  to  his 
mother.” 

With  a  little  inarticulate  cry  Carroll  sprang  to  her. 
feet.  For  a  moment  there  was  a  flash  of  fire  in  her 
eyes,  then  she  commanded  her  voice  sufficiently  to 
pant : 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


95 


f  "Kind  as  you  have  been  to  me  Mrs.  Shannon,  much 
as  I  owe  you,  you  have  not  the  right  to  say  such 
things  as  that  to  me,  nor  shall  you.  I  have  never 
tried  to  entrap  your  son  into  anything.  I  don’t  think 
I  should  know  how,  even  if  I  were  to  try.  .When  your 
’  son  asked  me  to  be  his  wife  he  conferred  an  honor  up- 
!  on  me  that  I  appreciate  with  all  my  heart,  but  he  did 
;  it  entirely  without  encouragement  from  me.” 

3  Had  Carroll  been  less  wounded  over  the  conver¬ 
sation  she  might  have  seen  the  whitened  indignation 
of  that  set,  proud  face ;  but  her  heart  was  too  sore  to 
take  note  of  outward  indications. 

"My  son  asked  you  to  be  his  wife?”  questioned 
Mrs.  Shannon,  in  a  voice  hard  as  granite. 

"He  did.” 

A  sneer  passed  over  the  rigid  features. 

"I  think  you  are  mistaken,”  she  said,  heavily. 

Carroll’s  sensitive  lip  quivered  piteously. 

"Don’t  say  that,  Mrs.  Shannon,”  she  cried  brok¬ 
enly.  “I  know  that  I  have  been  most  unfortunate. 
It  may  be  that  I  am  far  from  worthy  of  the  honor  that 
your  son  conferred  upon  me,  but  he  is  a  gentleman 
who  respects  his  mother  too  much  to  offer  anything 
less  than  that  to  a  woman  beneath  her  roof.” 

That  Mrs.  Shannon  felt  the  rebuke  keenly,  her  ex- 
pression  but  too  plainly  indicated,  but  it  only  served 
I  to  increase  her  pride.  But  while  pride  dominated,  fear 


was  also  in  the  foreground  of  her  emotions.  Was  it 
possible  that  Russell  really  contemplated  a  marriage 
with  this  woman  of  whose  antecedents  he  knew  ab¬ 
solutely  nothing?  Was  it  possible  that  he  could  think 
of  her  when  he  did  not  even  know  to  a  certainty  that 
her  marriage  was  a  reality  ancf  not  a  sham?  But  if 


96 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Russell  had  made  up  his  mind  to  a  step  like  that, 
should  she  be  able  to  prevent  the  union  that  would 
mean  absolute,  undeniable  ruin  to  him  ?  For  that 
.Carroll  would  think  of  rejecting  the  offer  that  Russell 
Shannon  would  make  her,  never  even  occurred  to  his 
adoring  mother. 

After  a  momentary  silence  and  quick  consideration 
the  sneer  faded  from  Mrs.  Shannon’s  countenance. 
Something  of  the  kindness  and  gentleness  to  which 
she  had  accustomed  Carroll,  returned,  but  it  was  over¬ 
shadowed  by  a  certain  decision  of  speech,  a  firmness 
of  manner,  that  was  not  calculated  to  deceive. 

“Perhaps  you  are  right,”  she  said,  quietly,  “and  I 
have  misjudged  him;  but  even  under  those  circum¬ 
stances  lie  must  realize  that  a  marriage  with  you 
would  be  utterly  impossible  for  a  man  in  his  position. 
I  don’t  wish  to  be  hard  upon  you.  I  don’t  wish  to 
to  wound  you,  but  perfect  frankness  is  absolutely  in¬ 
dispensable  at  a  time  like  this.” 

“Will  you  allow  me  one  moment?”  asked  Carrol!, 
some  of  her  own  pride  of  birth  betrayed  in  her  tone. 
“I  would  not  have  you  for  one  instant  believe  ms 
insensible  to  the  great  compliment  that  Mr.  Shannon 
has  paid  me,  but  I  had  not  the  remotest  idea  of  ac¬ 
cepting  him,  for  I  do  not  love  him.” 

Mrs.  Shannon  stared  at  her  in  astonishment.  Was 
it  possible  that  the  girl  could  be  speaking  the  truth? 
At  all  events,  policy  dictated  that  she  should  accept 
it  as  such. 

An  expression  which  she  intended  should  indicate 
relief  passed  over  her  features. 

“I  am  glad  of  that!”  she  exclaimed,  earnestly. 
*'Under  those  circumstances,  perhaps  you  will  not 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  98 

object  to  acting  in  the  matter  under  my  dictation  ?” 

“I' have  none  whatever.” 

"•If  Russell  has  this  foolish  thing  in  his  head,  you 
must  realize  how  much  better  it  would  be  for  you  to 
be  no  longer  under  the  same  roof  with  him,  at  least 
until  he  has  recovered  from  the  fever,  so  to  speak.” 

Carroll  started.  A  deadly  pallor  crept  over  her 
face.  For  the  first  time  she  seemed  to  thoroughly 
comprehend  what  this  meant  to  her.  She  was  to  be 
thrown  upon  the  world  again  at  a  time  when  it  was 
hardest.  She  was  to  lose  the  friend  who  had  been 
so  much  to  her,  through  no  fault  of  her  own.  Friend¬ 
less,  helpless,  with  that  hideous  illness  hanging  over 
her  that  had  already  wrecked  her  life  even  with  its 
frightful  shadow,  she  was  to  be  turned  into  the  streets* 
for  what  fate  God  alone  could  tell.  She  shivered 
slightly,  but  answered  with  the  calmness  of  despair: 

"Yes,  I  see.” 

"That  is  well,”  returned  Mrs.  Shannon,  with  n a 
endeavor  to  conceal  her  satisfaction.  "Of  course,  to 
remove  you  from  the  house  would  not  be  the  slightest 
use  if  he  were  allowed  to  know  where  you  had  gone, 
but  that  is  what  we  must  prevent.  Will  you  tell  me 
what  your  answer  was  to  him  when  he  made  this  pro¬ 
posal  ?” 

"I  was  too  much  agitated  to  remember  either  his 
words  or  my  own;  but  it  was  a  rejection.” 

"And  his  reply?” 

Carroll  hung  her  head  for  a  moment,  but  with  no 
desire  to  withhold  the  truth. 

"He  was  very  kind  to  me,”  she  answered,  trem¬ 
ulously.  "He  said  that  he  loved  me  too  much  to 
accept — ” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


gs 

ji  Her  voice  broke,  and  Mrs.  Shannon’s  fingers  closed 
spasmodically.  Her  son  must  be  saved,  let  the  cost  be 
to  another  what  it  would. 

i  understand,”  she  said,  with  more  coldness  than 
before.  “I  think  that  you  perceive  that  you  owe  me 
Something  of  gratitude  for  my  friendship  for  you  in' 
the  past — a  friendship  which  you  must  see  was  purely  ’, 
disinterested ;  do  you  not,  Coralie  ?” 

“I  do,  Heaven  knows!”  [ 

“And  you  would  do  something  to  repay  it?” 

,  “Anything  that  lay  within  my  power.” 

:  And  looking  into  the  earnest  face,  Mrs.  Shannon 
could  not  doubt  the  truth  of  her  words.  There  was 
some  genuine  relief  in  her  countenance.  She  leaned 
a  trifle  toward  Carroll  and  took  her  hand. 

“I  know  it  will  be  hard  upon  you  at  a  time  like 
this  to  go  into  a  strange  place;  but  you  see  the  ne¬ 
cessity  as  well  as  I  can  point  it  out  to  you.  You 
must  go  away  at  once  without  seeing  Russell  or  allow¬ 
ing  him  to  suspect  that  you  are  going.  When  you  are 
gone  you  must  be  particularly  careful  that  he  does  not 
Sdiscover  you.  Have  I  your  promise  that  you  will 
this?” 

i  KYou  have.”  | 

!  There  was  the  anguish  of  death  in  the  young  voice-,  f 
But  what  was  there  left  for  her  to  do?  She  knew; 
that  she  could  no  longer  remain  in  the  house  where' 
tier  attraction  had  been  her  greatest  misfortune.  But 
jyhat  should  she  do  under  this  new  bitterness  that  was 
Opening  before  her?  Where  should  she  go?  And 
Svhatt  should  she  do  ? 

'•  'Mrs.  Shannon  seemed  to  read  something  of  the 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


99 


Horrible  fear  of  the  future  that  was  passing  through 
Her  brain. 

I  “You  need  not  think  that  I  shall  quite  abandon 
you,”  she  said,  more  kindly.  “Let  me  see  that  I  can 
..  trust  you,  and  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  assist  you.  I  am 
more  sorry  than  I  can  say  that  this  has  occurred;  but 
|  since  it  has,  the  sooner  the  wrench  is  made,  the  better 
I'for  us  all.” 

*  “I  see,”  said  Carroll,  Huskily.  Her  eyes  glazed 
under  the  suffering  she  was  enduring.  “I  shall  go  at 
once.  There  is  nothing  I  can  say  that  would  ex¬ 
press  my  regret  for  what  has  occurred ;  but  I  swear  to 
you  that  your  son  is  as  safe  from  me  as  if  eternity 
were  between  us.  Good-bye,  and  God  bless  you  for 
your  kindness  to  me!  The  worst  pain  that  I  endure 
is  in  the  thought  that  you  believe  in  my  ingratitude,, 
Some  day,  perhaps,  you  w'ill  discover  that  I  have  not 
deserved  it.  May  I  kiss  your  hand?” 

She  raised  her  jeweled  fingers  to  her  lips,  held  them 
there  a  moment,  then,  with  a  tremendous  effort  at 
strangling  the  sobs  that  rose  in  her  throat,  she  stag¬ 
gered  from  the  room. 


Chapter  XVI. 


SUone,  friendless,  even  more  hopeless  than  she  had 
ever  been,  Carroll  found  herself  once  again  in  the 
streets,  with  not  even  the  shadowy  hope  Qf  trifling 
success  that  had  before  animated  her.  She  was  too 
proud  to  accept  the  assistance  that  Mrs.  Shannon  had 


her,  but  merely  taking  the  money  that  was  hers 


100 


A  LITTCE  PRINCESS 


by  right  of  earning,  she  left  the  house  that  she  had 
grown  to  look  upon  almost  as  her  home. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  she  herself  had  erred  in  some 
unknown  way,  that  God  should  send  such  distress  upon 
her.  Then  she  remembered  how  other  women  had 
suffered,  and  striven  to  he  brave.  But  it  was  a  weary 
fight.  Utter  desolation  seemed  to  weigh  her  down— 
a  desolation  from  which  there  seemed  absolutely  no 
escape. 

And,  worse  than  all,  there  was  no  promise  in  the 
'future. 

It  was  worse  than  a  blank,  for  here  was  the  knowl¬ 
edge  of  that  other  hideously  shadowed,  little  unknown 
life  for  which  she  was  responsible.  A  wild  grief  like 
mania  came  upon  her  as  she  left  the  house.  Suddenly 
the  world  became  a  blank.  She  knew  nothing,  cared 
for  nothing,  save  the  fact  that  she  was  alone  and 
wretched.  Could  she  have  done  so  then,  she  would 
have  called  Ballard  Hilliard  to  her  at  whatever  cost 
to  another. 

“Why  should  I  care?”  she  exclaimed  aloud,  as  she 
Staggered  along  under  the  gathering  darkness.  “Her 
sorrow  could  not  be  so  great  as  mine.  He  would 
come  to  me.  I  know  it — I  know  it!  It  would  give 
my  child  a  name — my  child  whom  I  have  no  right  to 
brand  with  the  shame  that  is  only  mine !  Great  God 
direct  me !  I  have  borne  so  much  that  I  can  bear  no 
more.  Have  mercy  upon  me! 

The  shades  of  evening  were  rapidly  descending;  a 
few  cold  stars  twinkled  here  and  there  in  the  heavens, 
and  a  weakling  moon  filled  the  sky  with  a  pale  light 
that  failed  to  reach  the  earth.  The  night  was  clear 
and  cold,  and  numbers  of  pedestrians  thronged  the 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


101 


streets.  She  saw  none  of  them.  She  was  led  simply 
by  the  misery  that  was  upon  her,  uninfluenced  by  any 
intention  whatever. 

Mrs.  Shannon  had  given  her  some  advice  as  to  the 
best  place  of  residence  during  the  next  few  weeks; 
but  if  Carroll  had  listened,  she  had  already  forgotten. 

She  paused  under  one  of  the  street  lamps,  leaning 
against  it  for  the  support  that  her  trembling  limbs  re¬ 
fused  to  yield,  and  seemed  to  consider. 

“ Which  shall  it  be?”  she  asked  herself,  in  a  quiver¬ 
ing  voice,  as  she  looked  at  the  twinkling  stars  for  her 
answer.  "Which  shall  it  be?  I  can  bear  it  no  longer. 
My  strength,  mental  and  physical,  is  exhausted.  To 
send  for  him,  or — the  river?  Oh,  my  love,  my  love, 
why  did  not  you  see  all  this  and  save  me?  Why 
could  you  not  understand — you  who  knew  life  and  its 
suffering— what  was  in  store  for  me,  and  save  me 
from  the  curse  of  our  folly?  You  did  not  think!  I 
know !  I  know !  You  loved  as  blindly  as  foolishly  as 
madly  as  I,  and  the  future  was  veiled.  You  do  not 
know  the  truth,  or  God  himself  could  not  have  sep¬ 
arated  you  from  me.  But  you  must  know  now !  You 
must !  I  would  bear  it  if  I  could,  but  I  can  not,  and  f 
have  not  the  right  to  end  it  all  in  death!” 

I  She  paused  to  consider  it  no  longer.  There  was  an 
expression  of  wild  determination  in  her  eyes.  The 
fire  of  fever  was  leaping  in  her  veins. 

She  turned  to  the  first  person  upon  whom  her  eyes 
rested,  and  in  a  voice  that  had  grown  reckless  and  de¬ 
fiant,  she  asked : 

"Can  you  tell  me  where  the  nearest  telegraph  office 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


102 

"Two  blocks  further  on  to  the  left,”  answered  the 
man  whom  she  had  addressed,  looking  curiously  at 
the  flushed  excited  face. 

"Thank  you!”  she  exclaimed,  hurriedly,  and  started 
away. 

But  already  a  sensation  that  she  could  not  compre¬ 
hend  was  overcoming  her.  Her  head  had  grown 
giddy.  Her  brain  was  reeling.  She  paused  and 
pressed  her  hand  heavily  against  her  forehead. 

'"•What  is  the  matter  with  me?”  she  groaned.  "Am 
I  going  blind?  Great  God!” 

For  a  moment  she  stood  there  swaying  to  and  fro. 
The  man  who  had  given  her  the  information  regard¬ 
ing  the  location  of  the  telegraph  office  started  toward 
her,  but  before  he  could  reach  her  side  there  was  a 
heavy  fall,  and  she  lay  there  quite  motionless,  face 
downward,  upon  the  street. 

An  officer  was  crossing  the  street  as  the  man  raised 
her  in  his  arms. 

"This  young  lady  is  very  sick,  I  am  afraid,  officer,” 
the  man  said,  gazing  kindly  into  the  beautiful  face. 
"I  think  she  will  require  an  ambulance.” 

"Do  you  know  her?” 

"Never  saw  her  before.”  J 

The  ambulance  call  was  sounded,  and  half  an  hour 
later  Carroll  lay  upon  one  of  the  white-draped  cots 
in  a  ward  of  the  hospital. 

Three  wreeks  afterward  she  opened  her  eyes  one 
morning  to  realization. 

The  room  was  darkened  and  still  as  death,  but  she 
felt  a  presence  beside  her.  She  put  out  her  hand 
curiously,  feeling  under  the  influence  of  a  dream 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  103 

rather  than  a  reality.  It  touched  that  of  a  man.  She 
drew  back  with  a  slight  cry. 

“Who  are  you?”  she  whispered,  faintly.  “And 
where  am  I  ?” 

j  Before  replying,  the  young  man  rose  and  opened 
the  shutters  a  trifle,  letting  in  a  ray  of  light.  Then 
he  returned  to  his  seat  beside  her.  \ 

i  “You  are  in  a  hospital,”  he  answered,  gently.  “You 
have  been  very  ill,  but  we  hope  that  will  all  be  over 
soon  now.  I  am  one  of  your  physicians.” 

“How  long  have  I  been  ill?” 

“About  three  weeks ;  but  you  must  not  ask  any 
questions  at  all,  only  lie  very  quietly,  and  be  obedient. 
That  is  not  always  easy  when  one  is  overrun  with 
curiosity,  I  am  quite  aware,  but  self-control  is  nec¬ 
essary,  you  know.” 

He  smiled  down  upon  her  as  he  might  have  done 
had  she  been  a  child,  but  there  was  little  of  an  an^ 
swering  one  in  her  eyes. 

“Wait!”  she  cried.  “There  are  some  things  that 
I  must  know.  As  a  physician  you  will  understand 
that  the  worry  of  it  all  would  do  more  to  retard  my 
recovery  than  a  trifling  exertion  could  possibly  do. 
Tell  me  something  of  myself,  and  I  will  try  to  be  as 
quiet  as  you  could  desire.  How  came  I  here?” 

|  “You  fell  in  the  street,  and  an  ambulance  brought 
Jyou  here.” 

A  faint  degree  of  memory  seemed  to  come  to  her. 
She  opened  her  lips  to  speak,  but  he  motioned  her 
to  silence.  i 

“If  you  do  that  I  shall  leave  you  at  once,”  ex¬ 
claimed  the  young  man.  “There  is  just  one  thing 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


1 0*T 

that  we  would  like  for  you  to  tell  us,  for  we  have 
been  unable  to  learn  anything  whatever  from  you. 
What  is  your  name?  And  at  what  address  can  we 
communicate  with  your  husband  ?” 

An  expression  of  relief,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
flush  of  shame,  crossed  Carroll’s  face.  The  relief 
came  from  the  knowledge  that  in  her  delirium  she  had 
betrayed  nothing;  but  her  voice  was  quiet  as  she  re¬ 
plied  ;  i 

“I  am  Mrs.  Mills.  My  husband  is — dead.” 

“Dead?” 

“Yes.” 

“Forgive  me.  You  spoke  of  him  many  times,  but 
only  as  Ballard.  We  could  tell  nothing  from  that, 
you  know.  There,  now,  I  am  going  to  leave  you.  Try 
to  sleep,  and  to-morrow  I  shall  have  a  pleasant  sur¬ 
prise  for  you.” 

He  closed  the  shutter  again  and  left  her  there  in 
the  darkness.  At  first  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  could 
never  sleep  until  her  mind  was  at  rest  upon  other 
points ;  but  there  was  no  one  to  ask,  and  her  weakness 
overcame  her  at  last.  She  slept — slept  for  many  hours 
sweetly  and  quietly — awaking  only  in  the  morning 
when  the  nurse  stood  over  her  and  the  sunlight  wasf 
streaming  into  the  room. 

The  woman  smiled  pleasantly. 

“There !”  she  exclaimed,  “that  has  done  you  a  world 
of  good !  Why,  you  are  so  greatly  improved  that  you 
appear  almost  well!” 

“I  feel  almost  well.  Tell  me — ” 

“Not  a  word.  The  doctor  will  be  here  presently, 
and  you  shall  satisfy  your  curiosity  all  you  like,  but  at 


A  LITTLE  FRINCESS  105 

present  I  am  dumb.  Ah!  here  he  is  now.  Doctor 
Winter,  your  patient  is  greatly  improved.” 

“That  is  good.  How  are  you,  Mrs.  Mills  There 
is  a  visitor  for  you  this  morning.” 

“For  me?” 

j  “Yes.  Would  you  like  to  see  her?” 

|  The  color  surged  into  Carroll's  face, 
j  “Who  is  she?” 

“Some  one  whom  you  have  never  seen.  Don't  ex¬ 
cite  yourself,  little  woman.  Perhaps  I  should  not 
have  told  you  yet;  but  you  know  even  doctors  are  not 
always  as  discreet  as  they  should  be.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  it  might  be  pleasant  for  you  to  have  a  com¬ 
panion,  now  that  you  are  recovering.” 

His  hand  was  smoothing  her  brow  very  gently ;  her 
eyes  held  his ;  her  breath  was  coming  quick  and  in 
little  pants. 

“You  mean — ” 

She  could  not  finish  the  sentence,  and  the  doctor 
turned  to  the  nurse,  who  had  left  the  room  a  moment 
before,  and  was  returning  with  a  little  bundle  in  her 
arms. 

“I  mean  your  little  daughter,  whose  acquaintance 
you  have  not  yet  formed,  Mrs.  Mills,”  he  said,  very 
gently. 

I  Carroll  held  out  her  arms  in  breathless  silence.  The 
little  creature  was  put  into  them. 

1  For  some  time  she  held  the  tiny  face  pressed  closely 
against  her  own,  then  her  lips  moved  and  they  heard 
her  murmur ; 

“Ballard's  baby  and  mine!  God  bless  my  little 
Princess !” 


106 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  XVII. 


The  art  world  of  New  York  was  in  an  uproar. 

Ballard  Hilliard’s  new  painting  had  been  given  tof 
the  public,  and  where  before  it  had  loudly  praised* 
his  talent,  it  went  further  now,  calling  it  genius,  andl 
comparing  him  with  the  old  masters,  whose  work  had 
lived  through  ages.  His  everlasting  fame  was  made, 
and  he  knew  it. 

It  was  difficult  to  describe  his  sensations  under  the 
glory  that  had  come  after  the  months  of  toil.  It 
had  been  a  labor  of  love  with  him;  his  whole  heart 
had  been  in  his  work,  and  yet  under  the  attendant 
prestige,  after  the  success  of  which  he  had  dreamed 
and  for  which  he  had  labored,  there  was  a  sense  of 
something  missing — that  something  which  would  never 
come  to  him  again  in  life. 

He  blamed  himself  alone  for  the  death  of  Carroll. 
He  looked  upon  himself  as  much  her  murderer  as 
if  his  hand  had  hurled  the  train  that  bore  her  into 
eternity;  and  his  grief  was  something  that  never  could 
be  buried.  * 

Not  that  he  ever  uttered  a  word  of  his  sorrow  to[ 
any  living  being;  but  it  was  there,  poisoning  all  his] 
life,  forbidding  even  the  prospect  of  happiness.  He 
knew  that  he  had  acted  the  part  of  a  coward  in  not 
telling  the  truth  to  both  those  pure  women  who  loved 
him ;  but  it  was  too  late  for  regret  to  avail  anything. 
The  little  that  lay  in  his  power  was  to  make  Geraldine 
Kingman  as  happy  as  he  could,  and  Heaven  knows 
it  was  little  enough  that  he  could  do,  with  that  dead! 
heart  lying  like  a  lump  of  lead  in  his  bosom. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


107 


The  congratulations  that  he  was  receiving  upon  all 
sides  made  the  memory  of  Carroll  particularly  alive 
in  his  heart  again,  for  it  was  the  portrait  that  he  had 
painted  of  her  that  had  brought  his  world-wide  fame ; 
and  as  he  sat  before  his  easel,  thinking  of  those  sweet, 
dead  days  when  she  had  been  there  beside  him,  when 
she  had  been  unable  to  work  because  of  the  tumult  of 
jlove  that  was  raging  in  his  breast,  he  rose  suddenly, 
passing  his  hand  before  his  eyes  to  free  them  from 
the  tears  that  were  blinding  him. 

“I  must  forget  you,  my  darling!”  he  whispered 
to  himself,  knowing  at  the  time  that  he  was  asking 
an  impossibility  of  his  heart.  “I  must  forget  you. 
It  is  unjust  to  my  promised  wife  that  I  should  re¬ 
member  like  this — that  I  should  live  in  the  thought 
of  the  past.  And  yet  I  can't — I  can't!  It  is  the 
punishment  of  God  for  my  sin  that  I  can  not !” 

He  walked  over  to  the  window  and  stood  there,, 
gazing  sadly,  dreamily  over  the  tops  of  the  build¬ 
ings  toward  the  distant  river,  deaf  to  all  sound,  blind 
to  the  outward  world,  when  some  one  touched  his 
elbow. 

7  He  started  slightly  and  turned.  The  noble  face  of 
his  betrothed  wife  was  beside  him. 
j  “Dreaming,  Ballard?”  she  asked,  gently.  “Ah, 
/dear,  you  are  living  too  much  in  your  success.  You 
are  too  ambitious.  Do  you  not  remember  the  advice 
■that  was  given  to  Cromwell?  You  are  forgetting 
everything  but  this  thirsting  for  fame.  It  pleases  me 
more  than  you  can  think  to  hear  the  world  singing 
your  praises ;  but,  there  is  something  in  life  becMes 
that” 


108 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


He  placed  both  his  hands  upon  her  shoulders  and 
looked  down  into  her  face  sadly. 

“I  know  it,  Jerry,”  he  answered,  unconscious  of 
the  pathos  of  his  voice;  “I  know  it.  I  saw  success 
through  halo.  What  a  mistake  it  was !  It  has  turned 
to  Dead  Sea  fruit  upon  my  lips.” 

Miss  Kingman’s  face  grew  pale. 

“You  are  so  unhappy,  then?”  she  asked,  not  re¬ 
proachfully,  but  miserably. 

He  saw  that  he  had  wounded  her. 

“Don’t  let  us  misunderstand  each  other,  Jerry!”  he 
exclaimed,  more  lightly.  “Life  is  not  such  a  horror 
as  some  of  us  would  try  to  make  it,  if  we  only  see 
the  right  side  of  it.  I  realize  that  I  have  been  living 
too  much  in  my  work.  I  find  that  it  does  not  contain 
all  of  living,  by  any  means.  I  have  been  selfish  with 
it,  and  I  am  just  awakening  to  the  fact.  Jerry,  did 
you  think  that  my  thirst  for  fame  had  made  me  for* 
get  what  I  owe  you?” 

“Not  that,  Ballard;  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  you 
were  forgetting  yourself  in  it.  You  don’t  realize  it,* 
but  your  health  is  failing.  You  are  grown  pale  and 
thin;  your  eyes  have  lost  their  brilliancy.  See,  your 
hand  trembles  as  it  rests  upon  my  shoulder.  You  need 
rest  and  a  change.” 

He  looked  at  her  a  moment  earnestly,  then  said: 

“When  you  are  ready  to  go  with  me,  Jerry,  I  will 
take  the  rest  you  prescribe.  Until  then  I  must  work.” 

She  shrunk  from  him  just  a  trifle. 

“'Don’t  ask  me  to  do  that,  dear  ;  at  least,  just  yet.’ 
It  seems  to  me  that  you  would  be  better  without  me 
ifor  awhile.  I  seem  to  remind  you  of  the  past.  If 
you  will  not  go,  Ballard,  then  I  shall  for  a  little 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


109 


while.  I  have  had  an  invitation  to  visit  Philadelphia 
'f or  a  few  weeks,  and  I  think  I  shall  go.  If  you  find 
that  you  need  me,  come  for  me  and  I  shall  return 
at  once.” 

She  was  looking  at  him  longingly,  yearningly,  un¬ 
conscious  that  she  was  betraying  herself  in  her  words, 
unconscious  that  he  could  read  the  desire  underlying 
her  expression,  that  he  should  come  for  her  because 
he  could  not  get  along  without  her.  But  he  under¬ 
stood,  as  a  man  always  does  who  does  not  love  the 
woman  as  she  loves  him,  and  a  sigh  escaped  him. 
j  ?  “To  whom  are  you  going?”  he  asked,  quietly. 

“To  Mrs.  vShannon.  You  remember,  do  you  not? 
'She  was  an  old  friend  of  my  mother.  You  have  met 
her.”  f 

“Yes,  I  know,  and  I  have  met  her  son.  Are  you 
quite  sure  that  you  will  not  forget  me,  Jerry?” 

The  question  pleased  her.  1 

|  “You  know  that  I  shall  not.” 

“I  shall  come  for  you,  dear,  unless  you  return  by 
the  end  of  the  week.  Life  will  be  very  dreary  and 
'dismal  without  you.” 

He  said  the  words  as  if  he  meant  them,  and  hope 
arose  in  her  heart. 

j  “Ballard,”  she  said,  gently,  “I  am  afraid  it  is  very 
^dreary  and  dismal  to  you,  anyway;  but  oh,  believe 
.me,  it  will  be  different  by  and  by.  One  can’t  go  on 
^remembering  forever.  I  never  intended  to  speak  to 
you  of  the  past  again,  but  there  is  just  one  question 
that  I  should  like  to  ask  you,  and  then  we  will  bury 
it  forever.  Have  I  your  permission  ?” 

“Ask  anything  you  will.” 


110 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“Then  why  was  it  that  you  never  married  her, 
dear?” 

There  was  a  painful  silence  for  a  moment,  then  in 
a  voice  which  she  never  forgot,  he  replied :  , 

“  She , would  not  have  me !” 

Miss  Kingman  started. 

The  answer  seemed  to  put  an  entirely  new  phase 
upon  the  situation  to  her.  Suddenly  she  remembered 
that  Carroll  had  told  her  she  loved  some  one  so  in*‘ 
tensely.  Up  to  that  moment  she  relieved  it  to  have 
been  Ballard  Hilliard,  but  how  coo'd  that  have  been 
true  if  she  had  declined  to  be  his  wife?  She  thought 
she  saw  it  all  then.  She  thought  she  understood  the 
misery  that  had  ruined  the  young  artist’s  life.  It 
.was  that  he  had  loved  without  reciprocation.  It  made 
everything  seem  so  plain  to  her.  Carroll  had  evidently 
eloped  with  the  lover  of  whom  she  had  spoken  to  her, 
.with  the  sad  ending  of  death.  And,  in  consequence, 
she  pitied  Ballard  Hilliard  more  than  ever. 

She  put  up  her  hands  and  took  his  face  between 
her  palms. 

“Forgive  me!”  she  whispered.  “I  have  misjudged 
you,  but  it  did  not  make  me  love  you  any  the  less.  I 
understand  better  now.  We  will  never  speak  of  itf 
again,  please.  I  am  going  to-morrow,  Ballard.  Will? 
you  take  me  to  the  train?” 

“If  you  will  promise  me  to  remain  but  a  week,1 
Dear  heart,  you  are  very  necessary  to  me  now.  I 
wonder  if  you  understand  how  I  appreciate  your  love  ? 

I  wonder  if  you  realize  how  grateful  I  am  for  the 
kindness  you  have  shown  me?  Ah,  Jerry,  you  are 
something  more  than  a  woman !  You  are  an  angel !” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  m 

A  few  days  later  he  went  with  her  to  the  train,  and 
kissed  her  good-bye  upon  the  platform. 
i  “Only  one  week,  remember!”  he  said,  as  he  left  her 
to  watch  the  train  pull  out. 

.  “Dear  Ballard!”  she  murmured  almost  happily,  as 
she  saw  him  reach  the  ground  in  safety.  “I  don’t 
think  he  quite  realizes  it  himself,  but  he  is  learning 
to  love  me!  Thank  God  for  that!  Life  is  beginning 
in  earnest  at  last,  and  I  am  really  to  know  what  happi¬ 
ness  means.” 

!  She  settled  herself  back  in  her  parlor-chair,  con¬ 
cealing  her  eyes  because  they  contained  tears  that  were 
not  those  of  misery.  She  had  been  very  wretched 
of  late,  but  she  felt  that  the  sun  was  very  closely  be¬ 
hind  the  cloud  now,  ready  to  burst  forth  with  that 
grandeur  with  which  it  had  never  yet  shone  for  her. 

She  lived  in  a  happy  dream — and  the  future  was 
veiled ! 

.Was  it  best? 


Chapter  XVIII. 

1 

“Doctor  Winter,  I  have  come  to  say  good-bye!” 

Carroll  stood  at  the  door  of  the  young  doctor’s 
private  room,  pale,  but  beautiful  as  a  dream  after 
the  severe  illness  through  which  she  had  passed.  Her 
hair  had  been  cut  short  and  curled  about  her  head, 
giving  her  the  appearence  of  a  nimbus-crowned  saint. 
In  her  arms  she  held  the  tiny  reproduction  of  herself 
that  was  at  once  the  joy  ahd  shame  of  her  young  life. 


112 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Doctor  Winter  rose  from  the  medical  pamphlets 
he  had  been  studying. 

-  “You  are  not  really  going,  Mrs.  Mills,  are  you?” 
he  asked,  with  genuine  regret  in  his  fine  eyes. 
t  “Yes,”  she  answered,  endeavoring  to  smile,  but  in 
reality  giving  her  lovely  countenance  a  sadder  ex¬ 
pression  than  before.  “I  have  been  discharged  from 
the  hospital,  you  know.”  j 

.  “In  one  sense  I  am  glad,  for  it  shows  that  you  are 
cured;  but  I  shall  miss  you  sadly,  little  woman.  I 
hope  it  is  into  a  happier  life  that  you  are  going.” 

He  had  taken  her  hand  and  was  looking  down 
into  her  face  with  a  sincere  interest  that  was  not  love, 
and  she  read  it  aright.  She  was  more  grateful  for 
his  friendship  than  words  could  have  expressed. 

“God  knows!”  she  answered,  simply.  “It  has  been 
hard  enough  so  far,  and  yet,  perhaps  I  should  not 
complain,  because  He  has  blessed  me  with  good 
friends.” 

“I  hope  you  count  me  among  the  number?” 

■  “I  should  be  more  than  ungrateful,  did  I  not.  I 
have  come  to  thank  you  for  all  your  kindness  to  me. 
It  has  been  greater  than  I  had  a  right  to  expect  from 
any  physician.  If  it  were  not  presuming  I  should - 
call  it  brotherly.”  | 

5  “And  I  do  feel  so,  little  woman.  I  am  deeply  in¬ 
terested  in  you,  and  I  should  appreciate  it  as  the 
very  greatest  favor  if  you  would  allow  me  to  see  you 
sometimes.  You  know  I  am  the  godfather  of  the 
little  Princess,  and  you  have  not  the  right  to  keep  me 
irom  her.” 

There  was  a  smile  in  his  eyes,  and  Carroll  under¬ 
stood  perfectly  the  kindness  of  his  intention. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  113 

Tears  choked  her  utterance  for  a  moment,  but  she 
found  voice  at  last  to  reply :  » 

It  would  seem  a  little  less  like  going  into  a  life  that 
is  cruelly  new  if  I  knew  that  I  should  see  you  oc¬ 
casionally. " 

»  “'Then  you  may  be  sure  that  you  shall.  Perhaps 
you  are  not  aware  of  it,  but  I  myself  am  situated 
somewhat  as  you  are.  I  am  alone  in  the  world.  Of 
course  I  realize  that  it  is  nothing  for  a  man  compared 
with  what  it  is  for  a  woman,  but  it  is  not  easy  for 
either  to  know  that  there  is  absolutely  no  one  who 
belongs  to  him  or  her — that  there  is  no  one  upon 
whose  sympathy  one  can  depend.  It  will  establish 
a  bond  between  us  that  will  create  a  friendship  if  it 
has  not  already  done  so,  Mrs.  Mills.  Have  you  de¬ 
cided  yet  what  you  shall  do?” 

She  shook  her  head. 

“There  is  so  little  that  I  can  do,”  she  answered, 
drearily.  “My  little  Princess  will  prevent  my  taking 
the  place  of  even  a  servant,  I  am  afraid.  The  nurses 
tell  me  that  there  is  little  hope  of  a  woman  with  a 
child.  It  looks  very  like  starvation,  I  am  afraid.”  * 

“Oh,  not  so  bad  as  that.  You  must  not  despair. 
You  are  too  young  for  that.  And  you  must  always 
remember  that  God  helps  those  who  help  themselves. 
Let  me  see;  where  is  it  that  you  are  going?” 

“I  have  secured  a  little  room  just  at  first  in  the 
home  of  a  friend  of  one  of  the  nurses.  It  is  very 
small,  very  forlorn,  but  it  is  the  best  that  I  can  do.” 

“Suppose  you  allow  me  to  call  there  this  evening 
and  let  us  talk  over  the  future.  Let  us  see  if  it  looks 
quite  as  hopeless  as  you  seem  to  think.  There  is 


214 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


always  an  avenue  of  escape  to  those  who  are  wiTTinj 
io  find  it.”  j 

“I  am  afraid  it  will  be  a  poor  place  to  which  ta 
ask  you  to  come.”  , 

h  “I  shall  not  mind  that.”  i 

fk,  #  f 

1?  “It  is  so  good  of  you.  You  must  not  resent  my 
Hesitation,  or  think  me  lacking  in  gratitude,  but  there! 
is  a  singular  fatality  following  me.  It  is  that  I  lose|. 
any  one  who  has  been  my  friend  in  some  horribly® 
(dramatic  way  that  never  fails  to  .effect  my  life,  as  well 
as  that  of  the  one  who  has  liked  me.  I  am  half  afraid 
to  accept  your  friendship,  lest  I  bring  upon  you  some 
hideous  evil.” 

,  Doctor  Winter  laughed. 

“Why,  what  a  superstitious  little  thing  you  are,  t<* 
be  sure!”  he  exclaimed,  with  genuine  amusement* 
“And  do  you  really  believe  that  to  be  true?” 
i;  “I  do.” 


t  There  was  such  earnestness  in  the  reply,  such  ears* 
festness  in  the  face  that  was  raised  to  his,  that  he 
gently  pressed  the  hand  he  held,  the  laughter  dying  out 
pf  his  eyes. 

i  “Well,  we  will  prove  that  it  is  not  true.  We  will 
fexplode  your  bugbear.  I  am  going  to  be  your  friend,  f 
and  nothing  is  going  to  happen  to  me  out  of  the  ordi«-  £ 
nary,  either.  Don’t  think  that  I  am  tempting  fate  by 
any  undue  boldness;  but  I  am  quite  sure  that  God 
never  sent  such  a  scourge  as  that  into  any  woman’s 
life.  The  results  that  you  have  observed  have  been 
merely  those  of  accident.” 

“I  hope  that  it  is  true.” 

“You  must  not  doubt  it.  It  is  like  questioning 


"A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  115 

the  mercy  of  Heaven.  I  shall  see  you  in  your  new 
home  to-night.  How  well  the  baby  looks  1” 

"Very.” 

|  "She  is  singularly  like  you.  I  don't  think  I  even 
saw  a  more  striking  resemblance.” 

I  "God  help  her !” 

"Come,  come,  child!  You  must  not  give  way  to 
gloomy  reflections  like  that.  You  have  had  a  great 
sorrow,  to  be  sure,  but  other  women  have  had  them 
also.  You  are  not  alone  in  your  chastisement.  It  is 
not  the  correct  thing  to  sit  down  and  grieve.  You 
must  be  up  and  doing.  I  hope  to  find  you  in  a  better: 
.frame  of  mind  when  I  call  to-night.  Cheer  up,  little 
woman.  Remember  that  you  have  the  little  Princess 
to  live  for  now,  and  that  you  must  be  able  to  save 
her  from  the  sorrows  that  your  own  life  has  con* 
tained.”  ?. 

A  pain  that  was  like  white  anguish  came  to  Car- 
roll's  face.  The  thought  he  had  expressed  had  never 
come  to  her  before,  and  it  entered  her  soul  like  a  red- 
hot  iron.  She  pressed  the  little  form  closer  to  her, 
as  if  by  her  great  love  she  would  protect  the  little 
creature  from  all  harm  through  life. 

]  Then  Doctor  Winter  bent  his  noble  head  above  the 
baby.  i 

j  "Good-bye,  little  one,”  he  said,  in  that  cooing  fash* 

■  ion  that  one  unconsciously  uses  to  infancy.  "Keep 
*  mamma's  spirits  up  until  this  evening,  when  we  will 
have  a  chance  to  look  the  future  squarely  in  the  face.” 

He  pressed  Carroll's  hand  again,  and,  smiling 
through  the  tears,  she  gave  him  the  required  address 
and  left  him. 

She  had  already  said  farwell  to  the  others  in  the 


116 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


hospital  whose  acquaintance  she  had  formed,  and 
with  the  direction  from  the  nurse  as  to  the  locality  of 
her  friend’s  residence  clasped  in  her  hand,  she  left 
the  house.  d. 

The  air  was  chill,  but  it  seemed  to  brace  her  cour« 
age  for  the  unknown  existence  that  was  before  her. 
For  the  third  time  she  was  apparently  commencing 
life  anew,  yet  because  of  the  promise  of  Harry  Win¬ 
ter  she  felt  less  lonely,  less  utterly  forlorn,  than  upon 
either  of  the  other  occasions ;  and  then,  too,  there  was 
that  little  life  that  had  come  to  her,  and  which  was  all 
her  own. 

She  looked  down  into  the  tiny  face  with  a  wild 
adoration  as  that  thought  filled  her  heart.  ■  i 

“My  little  one,  my  darling!”  she  whispered.  “We 
will  face  it  together,  you  and  I.  Some  day  you  wall 
know  the  story  of  your  mother’s  life.  Will  you  for¬ 
give  her  then,  or  curse  her?  Will  you  say  to  me  then, 
as  my  mother  said,  ‘Death  is  better  than  shame  ?’  Oh‘, 
my  little  one,  if  I  can  ever  make  you  understand  how; 

I  loved  him,  how  I  love  him  still,  you  would  forgive 
me !  Had  I  the  right  to  brand  you  like  this,  even  for 
the  sake  of  that  woman  who  had  been  our  only  friend? 
But  it  is  too  late  now.  The  harm  is  done.  The  dis-‘ 
grace  is  upon  us  both,  reaching  high  as  heaven,  stretch¬ 
ing  through  eternity.  I  can  but  abide  now  by  the  de¬ 
cision  that  I  have  made.  God  forgive  me,  my  little 
Princess !” 

She  raised  the  child’s  face  to  her  lips,  even  there 
in  the  street  as  she  was,  and  pressed  a  passionate  kiss 
upon  it. 

She  was  terribly  white,  her  countenance  traced 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  117 

with  lines  of  sorrow ;  but  there  was  a  lady  observing 
her  who  failed  to  notice  that. 

She  was  coming  down  the  street  in  the  direction  of 
the  hospital,  when  something  in  the  young  mother’s 
movements  attracted  her.  She  looked  again.  The 
face  was  bent,  the  hair  beneath  the  closely  fitting  hat 
was  short,  yet  there  was  something  strangely  familiar 
in  the  appearance.  A  cry  arose  to  the  woman’s  lips, 
but  froze  there.  She  watched  until  the  white  face 
was  raised,  standing  there  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot; 
then,  when  Carroll  had  approached  her,  she  put  out 
her  hand  and  grasped  the  girl’s  arm. 
j  “Carroll!”  she  gasped. 

:  The  girl  raised  her  eyes.  There  was  a  quick  re¬ 
toil,  a  low,  panting  cry,  and  but  for  the  other’s  quick¬ 
ness  the  baby  would  have  fallen  to  the  earth. 

’“You — Miss  Kingman!”  she  whispered,  in  a  voice 
whose  hoarseness  made  it  horrible. 

“What  are  you  doing  here?”  panted  the  elder 
woman.  “What  is  the  meaning  of  this?  How  came 
it  that  we  read  of  your  death  in  the  paper?  And,  for 
•the  love  of  Heaven,  teh  me,  whose  child  is  this  ?” 


Chapter  XIX. 


t  For  a  moment  there  was  stupid  silence  upon  Car- 
roll’s  part.  She  stood  there  apparently  half  uncon¬ 
scious,  gazing  into  the  face  of  the  woman  for  whose 
sake  she  had  made  the  most  heroic  sacrifice  that  ever 
came  to  any  life. 

She  tried  to  shake  herself  together,  to  think  what 


318 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


it  was  required  that  she  should  say ;  but  her  br^  a 
seemed  paralyzed  under  the  shock.  She  might  have 
known  that  this  was  one  of  those  accidents  that  hap¬ 
pen  in  every  life,  and  so  have  been  prepared,  but  the 
thought  had  never  been  even  remotely  presented  to 
her.  She  tried  to  speak  some  words,  but  could  think 
of  nothing  connectedly,  then  put  out  her  arms  and 
whispered,  hoarsely:  i 

“Give  me  the  child  and  let  me  go!” 

“Not  until  you  have  told  me  what  all  this  means!” 
exclaimed  Miss  Kingman,  almost  passionately.  “How. 
came  you  by  this  child?  Whose  is  she  that  she  looks 
so  like  you  ?  Answer  me,  Carroll !  What  is  the  mean¬ 
ing  of  it  all,  and  where  is  your  husband  ?” 

The  girl  shrunk  back  without  replying,  her  eyes 
wild  like  those  of  a  hunted  animal  brought  to  bay. 
Her  fingers  were  pressed  upon  her  lips,  as  if  holding 
back  by  force  the  fierce  agony  that  threatened  to  es¬ 
cape  them. 

And  then  Geraldine  Kingman’s  manner  changed, 
and,  in  a  tone  of  persuasion,  she  exclaimed : 

“Have  I  not  always, been  your  friend,  Carrroll? 
Can  you  not  trust  me  now  ?” 

Then  all  the  memory  of  the  past  came  back  to  the  ( 
unhappy  girl  with  hideous  oppression. 

“You  have  been !”  she  cried,  in  a  voice  that  Miss 
Kingman  did  not  know.  “God  knows  you  have  been, 
but  I  need  your  friendship  now  more  than  ever  be¬ 
fore.  Have  pity  upon  me  and  let  me  go !  Ask  me  no 
questions,  for  I  tell  you  that  already  my  life  i§  harder 
than  I  can  endure.  Tf  you  ever  cared  for  me,  let  me 
be  as  dead  to  those  whom  I  have  loved  and  who  have 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  119 

loved  me  as  if  indeed  I  occupied  the  grave  that  was 
dug  for  me.  If  you  have  any  pity,  let  me  go!”  i 
During  the  speech  Geraldine  Kingman’s  face  had 
softened  and  changed.  She  was  again  the  great¬ 
hearted,  charitable,  noble  woman  that  had  brightened 
and  cheered  the  lives  of  Carroll  and  both  her  parents. 
She  had  put  aside  self,  and  remembered  only  the  sor^ 
rows  of  others. 

i  “And  if  I  refuse  to  do  that,  dear  child,”  she  said', 
gently,  “you  know  that  it  is  for  your'  good  alone. 
Carroll,  let  me  help  you.  Trust  me  with  the  story  of 
your  life.  Do  you  think  that  I  should  desert  you  be* 
cause  of  a  misfortune?  Perhaps — perhaps  I  know 
more  of  the  grief  that  has  come  into  your  life  than — ” 
“No,  no,  no!  You  don’t!  You  are  wrong — utterly; 
and  entirely  wrong!  No  one  knows — no  one,  save 
God  and  my  own  heart.  It  is  not  wise  or  generous  of 
you  to  suspect  anything  that  you  do  not  know.  For, 
the  love  of  Heaven,  go  away  and  leave  me !” 

The  words  were  uttered  so  wildly,  so  pleadingly, 
that  tears  came  to  Miss  Kingman’s  eyes;  nor  were 
they  of  sympathy  alone.  There  was  something  else — ■ 
some  other  feeling  finding  room  in  her  breast,  and  it 
was  one  of  great  thankfulness  that  what  she  had  at 
first  feared  was  false.  Some  thought  that  Ballard 
Hilliard  might  be  concerned  in  this  terrible  shame  had 
come  to  her  with  sickening  force,  but  she  suddenly] 
remembered  what  he  had  said  to  her  of  the  reason 
why  he  did  not  marry  Carroll,  and  the  words  of  the 
latter  had  confirmed  it.  -  j 

While,  therefore,  her  heart  was  alive  with  sympathy] 
for  the  girl  whom  she  had  loved  in  a  happier  past* 


120 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


there  was  also  a  thanksgiving  that  the  man  whom  she 
loved  was  innocent  of  wrong. 

The  woman  of  fashion  held  the  pauper  child  close 
to  her  breast. 

“I  can't  do  that,  Carroll,”  she  said,  gently.  “Is 
that  living  up  to  the  command  of  God?  Dear,  I  don’t 
want  to  hurt  you,  but  your  manner  leaves  but  one 
thing  for  me  to  believe.  Try  to  understand  what  I 
mean  without  my  speaking  the  cruel  words.  But  your 
misfortune  does  not  warrent  my  leaving  you.  Oh, 
Carroll,  dear  child!  how  you  must  have  suffered! 
How  bitterly  hard  your  life  must  have  been  when  you 
could  leave  home  and  friends  in  the  manner  you  have 
done,  leaving  them  to  mourn  you  as  dead !  Why  did 
you  not  trust  me,  child?  Why  did  you  not  come  to 
me  in  your  terrible  trouble  ?  Did  you  think  that  I 
should  be  the  first  to  cast  a  stone?  Did  you  think 
that  I  should  have  turned  my  back  upon  you  because 
you  had  been  so  cruelly  betrayed  ?” 

The  kindness,  the  gentleness,  the  tenderness  were 
wringing  Carroll's  heart  as  no  reproaches  could  ever 
have  done.  Violent  sobs  were  rising  in  her  throat. 
The  anguish  in  her  eyes  was  horrible. 

“Don't!”  she  cried.  “I  have  borne  all  that  I  can, 
and  you  are  breaking  my  heart.  If  I  have  sinned, 
God  knows  that  I  have  expiated  by  suffering,  for 
there  are  no  words  to  tell  what  I  have  endured;  but  if 
you  have  any  pity,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  leave  me 
as  dead  to  the  world  as  I  now  am!  Don't  make  all 
the  sacrifice  of  my  life  useless!  Promise  me  that  you 
will  tell  no  one — no  one  at  all — that  you  have  seen 
me!  Oh,  in  pity  promise!” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  121 

“But  your  mother,  Carroll?  Have  you  no  thought 
of  her?” 

“It  is  for  her  sake  that  I  ask  it.  I  am  better  dead 
than  that  my  shame  should  become  public.  She  could 
not  bear  it.  She  is  proud — terribly  proud.  It  would 
kill  her  to  know  that  I — have  become  a — mother  be¬ 
fore  I  am  a — wife!” 

j  The  sentence  was  barely  audible,  and  Miss  Kingman 
shivered. 

“Oh,  Carroll!  Carroll!”  she  moaned. 

“Hush!  For  God’s  sake,  have  pity  upon  me!  Give 
me  the  child  and  let  me  go.  Of  all  the  anguish  1 
have  endured,  this  is  the  worst.  Tell  me,  is  she  well? 
Has  she  become  reconciled?” 

“No,  nor  never  will.” 

“You  see  her  sometimes,  do  you  not?  You  are  kind 
to  her  as  in  the  old  days?” 

“Often.  I  try  to  be  almost  a  daughter  to  her. 
And,  Carroll,  she  has  one  who  is  almost  a  son — who 
thinks  of  her  first  and  cares  for  her.  She  has  grown 
to  love  him,  and  to  call  upon  him  in  her  extremities. 
She  may  be  proud— almost  hard  to  some — but  she 
never  is  so  to  him.  He  has  been  so  kind,  so  generous, 
so  thoughtful,  dear.  Have  you  no  word  for  him? 
Is  it  your  wish  that  he,  too,  should  think  you  dead? 
Carroll—” 

|  What  it  cost  the  noble  woman  to  speak  those  words 
no  pen  could  tell.  Her  heart  ached  with  a  poignancy 
that  went  beyond  expression,  but  the  break  in  her 
speech  was  occasioned  by  the  low,  throbbing  cry  that 
issued  from  the  white  lips  of  her  listener. 

“For  the  love  of  God,  spare  me !”  she  gasped.  “You 
can  not  desire  to  add  torture  to  my  suffering?  Can’t 


322 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


you  see  that  every  word  you  utter  is  the  most  cruel 
stab?  Can’t  you  see  that  it  enters  my  heart  like  a 
knife?  If  you  would  do  me  the  only  kindness  that 
lies  in  your  power,  say  no  more.  Give  me  my  helpless 
child  and  let  me  go  out  of  your  life  forever.  Speak 
of  me  to  no  one.  Promise  me  that  you  will  do  that. 
Miss  Kingman,  in  the  name  of  pity !” 

“I  promise.” 

“God  bless  you!” 

Something  of  the  horror  faded  from  the  beautiful 
eyes.  The  white  lips  trembled;  great,  scalding  tears 
poured  over  the  ghastly  face.  She  stretched  forth  her 
arms  and  took  the  baby  from  her  friend,  hugging  it 
closely  to  her  own  desolate  breast. 

“Good-bye,”  she  whispered,  hoarsely,  “and  forget 
me  as  quickly  as  you  can.” 

“You  mean  that  you  will  not  let  me  see  you,  Car-< 
roll?” 

“It  would  be  better  not.  Don’t  think  me  ungrate¬ 
ful.  Forgive  me  and  let  it  be  farewell  forever!” 

She  looked  into  the  face  of  her  old-time  friend 
once,  longingly,  hungrily,  then  staggered  away  with¬ 
out  a  backward  glance,  the  old  battle  to  be  fought 
again,  the  old  struggle  renewed  a  thousand-fold. 

Miss  Kingman  looked  after  her. 

“Poor  child!”  she  muttered.  “Plow  she  suffers? 
She  was  innocent,  helpless,  and  she  loved.  Is  not  the 
punishment  too  great?  Ah!  surely,  it  is  not  right 
that  I  should  yield  to  her  supplication.  It  may  be 
better  that  she  should  remain  dead  to  the  others,  but 
at  least  I  have  not  the  moral  right  to  abandon  her, 
even  at  her  wish.  I  will  know  where  she  goes.  I  will 
give  her  time  to  recover  from  the  first  shock  of  know¬ 
ing  that  I  have  discovered  her_shame,  and  then  I  will 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


123 


gC  to  her  again.  She  will  let  me  help  her — I  know 
she  will.  And  at  least  I  shall  have  the  consolation  of 
knowing  that  she  is  not  unprovided  for.  How  poor 
and  miserable  she  looks!  poor,  helpless,  suffering 
;  child  !” 

|  Still  continuing  her  reflections  of  sympathy,  which 
were  not  unmixed  with  a  feeling  of  gratitude  that 
Ballard  Hilliard  had  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  grief 
that  had  come  into  the  young  life,  she  followed  Car- 
roll  at  a  safe  distance  until  she  had  entered  the  home 
the  kind-hearted  nurse  had  suggested,  then  very 
slowly  she  went  home. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon  she  could 
not  recover  from  the  shock  that  the  encounter  had 
given  her.  She  wanted  to  see  Carroll  again ;  she 
wanted  to  make  some  change  for  the  better  in  that 
afflicted  life;  and,  unable  to  bear  it  any  longer,  she 
turned  after  dinner  to  the  son  of  her  hostess,  and 
said : 

“Russell,  may  I  not  ask  a  favor  of  you?  I  met  an 
old  acquaintance  in  the  street  to-day.  She  was  very 
poor,  very  forlorn,  and  I  can  not  get  her  out  of  my 
mind.  I  want  to  see  her  again,  and  I  want  you  to 
take  me  to  her  door,  and  wait  until  I  come  out.  Is  it 
asking  too  much?  Shall  it  be  too  great  a  bore?” 

“Not  at  all,”  he  answered,  rising  at  once  to  do  her 
bidding. 

And  together  they  went  out  to  that  humble  street 
where  Miss  Kingman  knew  that  Carroll  lived. 

She  had  carefully  jotted  down  the  number  in  her 
memory,  arid  as  they  approached  the  house — a  small, 
ramshackle  frame  dwelling — Miss  Kingman  involun¬ 
tarily  glanced  in  at  one  of  the  windows.  Russell  Shan¬ 
non  followed  the  direction  of  her  eye. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


124 

There  were  no  shades  at  the  window,  or,  if  the: * 
were,  they  were  not  drawn ;  and  inside  the  room  they 
distinctly  saw  Carroll  standing  before  a  man  whose 
back  was  t®  them.  She  was  smiling  into  his  face, 
.with  an  expression  that  was  easily  mistakable.  His 
head  was  bent  over  the  baby  that  lay  in  his  arms,  as 
his  mustached  lips  pressed  a  light  kiss  upon  the  tiny 
month.  i 

f 

Miss  Kingman  was  startled  by  a  groan. 

She  glanced  hurriedly  at  the  man  at  her  side.  He 
was  white  as  death  and  rigid  as  iron.  She  grasped 
his  arm  with  almost  frantic  haste. 

“Come,”  she  exclaimed.  “Let  us  go  quickly!  Mer¬ 
ciful  Heaven!  it  is  worse  than  I  had  dreamed.  It 
would  have  been  much  better  if  she  had  really  died-  * 
much  better !” 


Chapter  XX. 


Grasping  the  arm  of  Russell  Shannon  spasmodi¬ 
cally*  Geraldine  Kingman  almost  forced  him  from  the 
contemplation  of  that  scene  that  had  well-nigh  robbed 
him  of  his  power  of  thought. 

His  mother  had  not  been  overtruthful  in  her  ac¬ 
count  to  him  of  Carroll’s  manner  of  leaving  her  house, 
telling  him — which  was  strickly  true  in  one  sense — 
that  she  did  not  know  where  Carroll  was  going,  but 
leaving  him  to  infer  that  she  had  done  all  that  lay 
in  her  power  to  persuade  the  girl  to  remain  beneath 
her  roof.  It  was,  therefore,  a  shock  from  which  he 
could  not  quite  recover  when  he  saw  the  girl  whom 
he  had  believed  to  be  peculiarly  friendless,  alone  in 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


125 


her  room  at  night  with  a  man  who  held  her  child,  and 
into  whose  face  she  looked  with  such  affection  and 
confidence. 

i  He  did  not  speak  during  their  homeward  walk:, 
and  it  was  not  until  they  again  stood  in  the  center  of 
his  mother's  drawing-room  that  he  turned  to  Gerald 
dine. 

j  His  face  was  white  and  rigid,  the  lines  about  his 
mouth  drawn  and  distorted.  She  would  scarcely  have 
recognized  the  voice  in  which  he  spoke  to  her. 

“Will  you  tell  me  where  you  knew  that  young 
.woman  ?”  he  asked,  as  quietly  as  he  could  force  him¬ 
self  to  speak. 

v-  “I  have  known  her  for  years  in  New  York,  where 
she  lived.” 

“And — and  that  man  with  her.  Who  was  he?” 

■  “I  don't  know.  I  never  saw  him  before.” 

“Will  you  tell  me  what  you  can  of  her  history?” 

“I  have  known  her,  as  I  tell  you,  for  years,  and 
yet  there  is  very  little  further  that  I  can  tell  you.  I 
have  always  been  interested  in  her,  perhaps  because 
of  her  singular  beauty,  but  I  also  knew  her  father, 
who  was  an  artist,  and  her  mother,  too,  though  poor, 
was  one  of  the  most  perfect  ladies  I  have  ever  seem 
They  were  very,  very  much  impoverished  at  the  deathE 
of  her  father,  but  I  always  believed  Garroll  to  be  one 
of  the  purest  girls.” 

'  “Carroll?” 

“That  is  her  name.” 

“Go  on,  please.” 

“Her  mother  was  in  delicate  health,  and  Carroll 
worked  early  and  late  like  a  slave  to  take  care  of 
her.  Their  devotion,  to  each  o&er  was  sometbjjq^ 


126 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


beautiful  to  witness.  There  was  a  gentleman  in  New, 
York,  rich,  handsome,  and  of  good  family,  who  loved 
Carroll,  and  would  have  married  her,  but  she  did  not 
care  for  him.  No  one  suspected  that  there  was  any; 
one  who  had  won  her  heart.  I  am  sure  that  her 
mother  did  not,  and  I,  who  was  her  nearest  friend, 
did  not.  Then  one  day  she  disappeared.  It  was  the 
night  of  the  terrible  storm,  when  the  Hudson  River 
disaster  occurred.  All  night  we  searched  for  her,  not 
knowing  what  had  happened  and  dreading  the  worst. 
The  next  morning  we  read  in  the  paper  that  she  was 
among  the  killed  in  that  frightful  wreck.  We  buried 
a  body  that  we  believed  to  be  hers,  and  mourned  her, 
as  dead.  To-day  I  met  her  upon  the  street — with  a 
child  in  her  arms!” 

The  voice  ceased.  Russell  Shannon  had  already; 
dropped  upon  a  chair  and  covered  his  ghastly  face 
with  his  hands.  Until  that  moment  he  had  scarcely 
suspected  himself  how  dear  Carroll  had  become  to 
him.  Miss  Kingman  was  looking  down  upon  him  in 
pity  and  amazement.  She  stood  silent  for  some  mo¬ 
ments,  then  she  placed  her  hand  gently,  timidly  upon 
his  shoulder. 

“What  have  I  done  in  taking  you  there?”  she  ques¬ 
tioned,  sadly.  “I  did  not  know  that  you  had  ever  met 
before.” 

His  hands  dropped.  She  never  forgot  the  counte¬ 
nance  that  was  lifted  to  her  own. 

“How  could  you  have  known?”  he  said,  hoarsely. 
“Forgive  me  if  I  have  added  to  your  distress.  There 
is  just  one  question  that  I  should  like  to  ask:  Are 
you  sure  that  she  was  never  married?” 

my  knowledge  she  never  was ;  but  recent  events 


'my 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  127j 

r 

Have  proven  how  little  I  know.  .Will  you  not  tell  me, 
Russell,  what  Carroll  is  to  you  ?” 

1.  “Nothing  but  the  lost  love  of  my  life.  She  might 
have  been  my  wife  had  she  so  desired !” 

4  “Great  heavens!” 

f  “Is  it  so  strange?  Ah,  she  is  young,  scarcely  more 
than  a  child,  and  she  is  pure!  She  knows  nothing 
else,  could  be  nothing  else!  There  is  some  horrible 
secret  that  I  shall  make  it  my  business  to  discover. 
She  is  friendless,  helpless,  and  in  spite  of  her  misfor¬ 
tune,  I  love  her  still.  I  shall  find  out  this  thing  that 
has  ruined  her  beautiful  young  existence,  and  then 
the  scoundrel  that  has  betrayed  her  shall  pay  for  it 
with  his  cowardly  life!” 

;  He  had  risen,  his  face  working  with  excitement. 

I  “Hush!”  exclaimed  Miss  Kingman,  her  eyes  lu¬ 
minous  with  fear.  “You  must  not  talk  like  that !  Re¬ 
member  you  have  other  interests  in  life.  There  is 
your  mother!” 

“It  is  because  I  remember  her  that  I  am  deter¬ 
mined  that  justice  shall  be  done!  It  is  because  I  have 
some  regard  left  for  purity  and  innocence  that  I  am 
determined  that  this  scoundrel  shall  pay  the  penalty 
of  his  dastardly  crime.  Do  you  think  the  fault  was 
hers  ?  I  tell  you  that  I  know  her,  and  that  she  is  pure 
as  Heaven!” 

•  He  picked  up  his  hat  as  he  ceased  speaking,  a  hid¬ 
eous  determination  expressed  in  his  eyes. 

Miss  Kingman  sprang  forward  and  placed  her  hand 
upon  his  arm  detainingly. 

“Where  are  you  going?”  she  gasped. 

“Back  there!” 

“For  what?” 


128 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“  To  find  that  villain  !-” 

“  But  you  may  be  mistaken.” 

“I  am  not  I  I  felt  it  as  I  looked  at  him.  He  shall 
make  her  an  honest  woman,  and  then — God  help  him 
if  he  attempts  to  injure  her  further !” 

“You  don’t  know  what  you  are  doing!  You  must 
not  go  there  in  this  condition.” 

“And  yet  I  tell  you  that  I  will!” 

“But  think,  Russell!  Give  yourself  time.  If  what 
you  fear  is  true,  you  will  have  ample  time — ” 

“There  is  no  time  like  the  present.” 

“But  you  must  not  go  there!  If  you  insist,  then  I 
shall  accompany  you.” 

“That  is  foolish!” 

“No  more  so  than  your  act.  Give  it  up.  Wait 
until  to-morrow;  then  call  upon  Carroll  while  she  is 
alone,  if  you  will.” 

“She  would  refuse  to  see  me,  and  even  if  she  should 
not,  she  would  still  conceal  the  identity  of  the  rascal 
from  me.  She  is  alone  in  the  world,  and  friendless. 
Ah,  Jerry,  you  don’t  know  what  you  are  talking 
about!  Place  yourself  in  her  position.  Undoubtedly; 
she  loves  him  and  will  protect  him  at  the  risk  of  her 
own  good  name  or  even  life  itself.  Do  you  think  I 
did  not  see  when  she  was  here  beneath  our  roof,  as 
she  was  for  several  months,  how  she  suffered?  Do 
you  think  I  did  not  know  how  tired  she  was  of  life? 
1  think  that  is  the  first  thing  that  ever  turned  rny  heart 
to  her.  I  saw  the  struggle  that  she  was  making.  Not 
that  I  suspected  what  it  was.  I  thought  she  had  lost 
her  husband  and  that  she  was  grieving  for  him,  and 
ah,  God!  how  I  pitied  her!  But  I  see  it  all  now.  Poor, 
hdoless,  innocent  child!  And  yet  you  tell  me  that  1 


I  UTTLE  PRINCESS  129 

must  see  her  betrayer  escape  me,  and  make  no  effort 
to  prevent  it?  Never !” 

“But  what  shall  you  do?” 

“Go  there!  Meet  him  face  to  face!  Wring  the 
truth  from  them  both  and  then  compel  him  to  marry 
her!  That  is  what  I  shall  do!” 

“And  if  he  refuses?” 

“  Then — ” 

Shannon  did  not  complete  the  sentence,  but  there 
was  an  expression  upon  his  face  that  made  further 
words  unnecessary.  Miss  Kingman  shivered,  but  her 
terror  did  not  prevent  her  from  taking  a  sudden  reso¬ 
lution. 

“You  shall  not  go  there  in  your  present  state  of 
mind,  Russell,”  she  said,  firmly. 

“Who  will  prevent  me?” 

“I  will!” 

“You?” 

“I!” 

“How?” 

“By  entreating  that  you  do  not  in  the  first  place, 
and  if  you  still  refuse  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  reason 
then  I  will  have  you  locked  up  until  you  have  re* 
gained  your  senses.” 

{  “You  will  have  me  locked  up?”  I  think  not.  What 
do  you  mean?” 

*  “That  1  shall  have  you  arrested!  Listen  to  me, 
Russell.  A  man  that  will  do  that  horrible  thing  of 
which  you  accuse  that  guest  of  Carroll's  is  a  desperate 
one.  In  your  present  state  you  have  no  reason  what¬ 
ever.  You  must  wait  until  you  are  in  a  fit  condition 
to  go  there — or  I  shall  prevent  it  at  any  cost  l" 


130 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  XXI. 


There  was  not  a  doubt  in  the  mind  of  Russell  Shan¬ 
non  but  that  Geraldine  Kingman  meant  every  word 
to  which  she  had  given  utterance. 

There  was  a  set  determination  in  her  face  that  was 
not  to  be  mistaken.  He  was  firmly  convinced  that  she 
would  go  to  any  length  to  carry  her  point  in  her  fear,  | 
for  his  safety,  and  because  she  believed  herself  in  a 
great  measure  responsible  for  it  in  that  she  had  taken 
him  to  that  house. 

There  was,  therefore,  nothing  that  he  could  do  but 
sit  down  and  bear  as  best  he  could  that  horrible  feel¬ 
ing  that  was  as  indescribable  as  it  was  hideous.  Rus¬ 
sell  Shannon  was  every  inch  a  man,  and  therefore 
did  not  hesitate  to  acknowledge  himself  vanquished 
by  a  woman. 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  time  in  absolute  silence,  then 
with  a  groan  threw  himself  into  a  chair.  ’■ 

He  knew  that  he  must  not,  for  Carroll’s  sake  as 
well  as  his  own,  get  that  odious  matter  in  the  columns 
of  the  newspapers,  and  any  disturbance  that  Miss 
Kingman  might  make  would  have  but  that  result.  ( 

“You  women  are  as  hard  as  iron  to  each  other,”  ( 
he  said,  doggedly.  “You  pretend  to  have  loved  this 
child,  and  yet  when  I  would  right  the  wrong  that  has 
been  done  her  you  put  an  obstacle  in  my  way  that  I 
can  not  surmount.  -  It  is  like  the  inconsistency  of  your, 
sex.” 

“You  have  not  the  right  to  say  that!”  cried  Miss 
Kingman,  passionately.  “There  is  no  sacrifice  that  I 
would  not  make  if  I  could  but  wioe  the  shame  from 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


131 


Carroll  Millbourne’s  name — if  I  could  but  return  her 
to  her  mother  as  pure  as  we  both  believed  her  at  the 
time  that  she  left  her  home;  but  in  the  state  that  you 
now  are,  you  would  but  make  a  bad  matter  worse. 
Go  to  her  to-morrow,  if  you  will,  say  to  her  what  you 
desire,  and  act  in  the  matter  as  you  see  fit,  but  I  owe 
it  to  your  mother  that  I  prevent  your  going  there  to¬ 
night.  You  may  think  of  me  as  hardly  as  you  will, 
but  when  this  feeling  has  worn  away,  you  will  see 
that  I  am  right  and  you  are  wrong.” 

There  was  not  the  slightest  indication  of  weaken¬ 
ing  in  her  manner,  and  Shannon  knew  that  the  case 
was  hopeless.  He  saw  that  it  was  useless  to  try  to 
do  anything  with  her,  either  by  persuasion  or  other¬ 
wise,  and  then  by  careful  questioning  he  succeeded 
in  obtaining  the  most  minute  history  of  Carroll’s  life, 
save  the  part  that  related  to  Ballard  Hilliard.  That, 
for  both  their  sakes,  Miss  Kingman  carefully  con¬ 
cealed. 

,  {When  she  left  him  it  was  too  late  for  him  to  be 
able  to  see  either  Carroll  or  the  man  who  had  been  in 
her  room,  and  thinking  to  gain  strength  for  the  fol¬ 
lowing  day,  he  retired  to  his  room,  endeavoring  to 
sleep;  but  it  was  a  useless  undertaking.  All  night 
he  lay  staring  up  at  the  ceiling,  making  plans  and  re¬ 
jecting  them,  until  when  the  morning  came  he  seemed 
further  from  a  knowledge  of  what  should  be  done  in 
the  premises  than  upon  the  preceding  night. 

He  felt  sore  toward  Miss  Kingman  that  she  had 
prevented  his  returning  to  that  house,  as  under  those 
circumstances  he  would  undoubtedly  have  discovered 
the  identity  of  the  man  who  had  occasioned  that  suf¬ 
fering  in  the  life  of  the  woman  whom  he  had  loved. 


132 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


for,  that  the  man  he  had  seen  was  the  one,  he  did 
not  even  remotely  doubt.  Still  he  would  act  cautiously, 
he  told  himself,  and  there  would  yet  be  ample  oppor¬ 
tunity.  , 

,  He  avoided  any  conversation  with  Miss  Kingman 
after  breakfast  that  morning,  though  she  was  obvious¬ 
ly  most  anxious  to  speak  with  him,  but  taking  his  hat 
he  walked  out  of  the  house  with  bent  head,  walking 
in  the  direction  of  the  little  dwelling  where  he  had 
received  such  a  mental  blow  the  night  before. 

1  There  was  a  wretched  strip  of  ragged  curtain  shad¬ 
ing  the  window  upon  that  occasion,  but  the  alteration 
did  not  blind  him  to  the  fact  that  the  house  was  the 
same. 

The  expression  of  his  face  was  most  peculiar  as  he 
paused  before  seeking  admission.  There  was  dogged 
determination  in  every  line,  but  there  was  also  a  death¬ 
less  pain,  a  sense  of  intense  disappointment  that  the 
woman  who  had  won  from  him  his  very  soul  was  un¬ 
worthy  of  the  gift;  for  let  the  misfortune  that  sur¬ 
rounded  her  be  great  as  it  would,  she  had  grossly  de¬ 
ceived  both  him  and  his  mother,  who  had  been  her 
friend.  Yet  that  did  not  alter  his  resolution  to  do  for 
her  all  that  lay  his  power. 

>  He  saw  now  clearly  the  necessity  for  careful-! 
ness  upon  his  part,  and  something  almost  like  grati¬ 
tude  to  Miss  Kingman  came  to  him  for  the  action  that 
she  had  taken  upon  the  night  before. 

'  He  pulled  a  knob  upon  the  door.  The  unmusical 
sound  of  a  cracked  bell  was  heard  in  the  hall  and  a 
little  later  the  door  was  opened  by  a  slatternly  looking 
girl. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  133 

“  There  is  a  lady  here  with  a  child/7  he  said  to  the 
girl,  “  whom — 77 

She  did  not  give  him  time  to  complete  his  sentence. 

“You  mean  Mrs.  Mills?”  she  asked. 

“Yes.  May  I  see  her?” 

“Yes,  sir.  Will  you  walk  in?” 

Shannon  hesitated  but  a  moment.  He  had  not  been 
exactly  accustomed  to  being  invited  into  a  lady’s 
room,  as  the  manner  of  the  girl  plainly  showed  he  was 
to  be  then,  without  the  lady’s  permission;  but  as  he 
quickly  reflected  that  Carroll  might  decline  to  see  him 
should  he  send  his  card,  he  concluded  to  conform  to 
the  regulations  of  that  class  of  society  and  do  as  was 
indicated  that  he  should.  He  therefore  followed  the 
girl,  who  had  already  tapped  upon  the  door  of  the 
room  that  he  knew  to  be  the  one  occupied  by  Carroll. 

A  faint  voice  from  within  bade  the  applicant  for 
admission  enter,  and  Shannon  waited  until  he  heard 
the  girl  announce : 

“A  gentleman  to  see  you,  ma’am!” 

Then  without  permission  he  stepped  beside  her 
into  the  room  and  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

The  picture  that  greeted  him  caused  the  hot  blood 
to  rise  to  his  brow,  and  yet  it  was  one  that  artists  have 
declared  to  be  beautiful.  It  was  that  young  mother 
carefully,  gently  rocking  the  child  who  slept  as  she 
held  it  to  her  bosom.  There  was  a  low  exclamation 
from  the  pallid  lips  of  the  unhappy  girl,  a  moment 
of  paralyzed  inactivity,  then  without  a  word  she  rose, 
placed  the  sleeping  child  upon  the  bed,  and  turned  to 
her  guest. 

“Why  have  you  submitted  me  to  this  humiliation?” 


134 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


she  asked,  m  a  quivering  voice.  “ Don’t  you  think  that 
my  suffering  has  been  great  enough  already  ?” 

Every  feeling  but  pity  and  love  had  died  from  his 
breast.  With  that  exquisite  face  before  him  he  would 
have  given  up  life  itself  for  her  and  to  save  her  honor. 

He  took  her  hands  tenderly,  and  looking  down  into 
her  eyes  said,  with  an  intensity  that  touched  her  to  the 
soul : 

“Do  you  think  you  have  the  right  to  speak  to  me 
like  that  ?  Have  I  ever  shown  a  desire  toward  you 
save  to  lighten  and  brighten  your  life?  Do  you  think 
that  I  should  have  come  here  for  any  reason  under 
God’s  heavens  except  a  yearning  to  benefit  you,  to  see 
you  happier?  Oh,  child,  how  little  you  have  appre¬ 
ciated  my  affection !” 

Tears  rose  to  her  eyes. 

“Forgive  me!”  she  cried,  contritely.  “I  think  my 
great  suffering  has  made  me  mad  sometimes.  You 
have  never  been  anything  but  the  kindest  of  friends 
to  me,  and  I  have  deserved  it  so  little.  Yet  why  have 
you  come?” 

“To  tell  you  that  my  love  for  you  is  unchanged { 
to  beg  of  you — ” 

A  flash  of  agony  crossed  her  face. 

“Oh,  hush,  I  beg  of  you!”  she  exclaimed,  dully* 
“You  are  only  making  it  a  thousand  times  harder  fof 
me!  You  don’t  understand!  If  you  but  knew  the 
thing  I  am,  you  would  despise  me.  Don’t  force  me  to 
tell  you  the  story  that  would  burn  my  tongue  to  speak. 
Love  can  never  be  anything  but  a  curse  to  me!” 

“It  is  you  who  do  not  understand,”  he  exclaimed, 
leading  her  to  a  rickety  chair  and  leaning  over  her  as 
his  tender  hand  smoothed  her  hair.  “Dear,  would 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  13i> 

it  pain  you  to  know  that  I  have  heard  the  story  of 
your  life?” 

She  started  up  with  a  little  panting  gasp. 

"  What  I”  she  whispered,  her  eyes  darkening  with 
shame. 

\  "Oh,  little  one,  why  did  you  not  trust  me  long  ago? 

;  [Why  could  you  not  have  told  me  the  story  of  your 
betrayed  life?  Did  you  think  me  so  little  of  a  man 
>  that  I  would  not  have  helped  you  ?  Did  you  think  me 
so  small  of  soul  that  I  should  not  have  understood 
your  temptation  and  pitied  you?  Did  you  not  know 
that,  loving  you  as  I  did,  I  should  have  forced  the 
contemptible  scoundrel  who  did  this  great  wrong,  to 
right  it  so  far  as  lay  in  his  power?” 

Her  head  had  sunk  forward  upon  her  breast,  and 
5dry,  tearless  sobs  were  shaking  her  slender  frame. 
Russell  Shannon  knelt  beside  her.  She  was  speaking 
to  him,  but  in  a  tone  so  low  that  he  could  scarcely 
catch  the  utterance. 

"Who  has  told  you  this?”  she  asked,  dully. 

"One  who  loves  you  very  dearly.  She  did  not 
tell  me  except  to  benefit  you.  It  was  Miss  Geraldine 
Kingman.” 

Carroll  shivered. 

"What  did  she  tell  you?” 

"The  whole  story  of  your  wrecked  life.” 

"Did  she — name  the  person  who — ” 

"No,  because  she  did  not  know.  But  you  will  tell 
me  that,  Carrolk— you  will  tell  me  the  truth,  will  you 
not,  dear?  I  shall  act  only  as  your  brother  would  Jo- 
had  you  one.” 

"And  that  is — ?” 

r<You  are  too  good  to  be  the  wife  of  such  a  man, 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


but  it  is  the  only  way  to  save  your  good  name  and  that 
of  your  child.  I  will  compel  him  to  marry  you.” 

She  rose  slowly,  every  particle  of  life  seeming  sud¬ 
denly  to  have  forsaken  her.  Her  face  was  cold  as 
death.  She  stood  there  before  him,  rigid  as  iron. 

“I  see  you  have  not  heard  all  the  truth,”  she  said, 
slowly.  “It  was  I  who  refused  to  marry  the  man  who 
loved  me.  I  beg  of  you  to  keep  this  to  yourself.  I 
entreat  that  you  tell  it  to  no  one,  not  even  Miss  King- 
man,  who  has  been  the  kindest  friend  I  ever  knew; 
but  it  is  quite  true.  Now  leave  me  to  my  fate !” 

Russell  Shannon  rose  from  his  knees.  He  looked 
helplessly  at  her  for  a  moment,  then  said : 

“I  see.  You  are  trying  to  shield  the  scoundrel;  but 
I  will  discover  him,  and — ” 

It  was  useless  to  complete  the  sentence.  The  ex¬ 
pression  of  his  countenance  was  sufficient. 


Chapter  XXII. 


Carroll  was  too  much  stunned  to  observe  the  threat¬ 
ening  countenance,  even  had  Russell  Shannon  not 
turned  his  face  from  her. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  the  past  two  days  had  been 
the  very  hardest  ones  to  bear  in  all  her  sorely  tried 
life.  She  was  peculiarly  alive  to  the  terrible  wrong 
that  had  been  done  her  child,  and  that,  coupled  with 
the  awful  agony  of  shame  that  she  had  been  forced 
to  endure,  was  almost  more  than  she  could  bear.  The 
wonder  to  her  was  that  her  reason  remained;  but  it 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  13?1 

seemed  only  a  part  of  her  punishment  that  it  should 
be  so. 

She  had  not  even  heard  Shannon’s  words,  and 
seemed  intensely  surprised  when  a  few  minutes  after¬ 
ward  he  touched  her  hand. 

“ Good-bye,  Carroll,”  he  said  sorrowfully. 

“I  thought  you  had  gone,”  she  returned,  wearily. 

The  unintentional  cruelty  of  the  remark  cut  him  to 
the  quick,  but  he  understood  how  she  was  suffering 
lo  cause  her  to  forget  that,  and  the  pain  in  his  eyes 
deepened. 

“I  am  going  now,”  he  said,  gently.  “It  is  your 
ivish  that  I  should  go,  is  it  not?” 

“Yes — oh,  yes!” 

“And  yet  you  know  that  I  am  eternally  your  friend. 
You  know  that  there  is  nothing  that  could  ever  change 
that,  do  you  not  ?” 

“You  are  better  than  I  deserve — a  thousand  times. 
It  would  be  best  for  you  if  you  could  forget  me.” 

“But  I  don’t  wish  to  do  that.  You  surely  will  not 
deny  that  you  need  my  friendship ;  therefore  you  will 
let  me  come  to  see  you  sometimes,  will  you  not?” 

“Your  mother  would  not  wish  it.” 

“Then  she  would  be  a  very  cruel  woman.  I  swear 
to  you,  dear,  that  if  you  will  let  me  come  sometimes 
that  I  will  never  speak  to  you  of  my  love.  I  swear 
that  I  remember  only  that  you  are  my  very  dear 
sister.  You  would  not  desire  to  prevent  that,  would 
you,  Carroll  ?” 

How  lonely  and  helpless  and  friendless  she  felt  un¬ 
der  the  touch  of  his  kindness.  A  great  sympathy  for 
herself  and  her  own  wretched  fate  seemed  to  fill  her 
heart.  Again  the  tears  rose  to  her  eyes.  She  was 


138 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


pitying  herself  as  if  she  were  some  other  whose  mis¬ 
ery  appealed  to  her. 

“You  are  so  good  to  me!”  she  cried,  clasping  his 
hand  closely.  “Why  do  you  not  despise  and  loathe  me 
me  as  all  the  world  would  do  if  it  but  knew?  Ah, 
yes!  Come  to  me!  Help  me  to  bear  this  frightful 
weariness — this  sickening  misery,  and  surely  God  will 
bless  you.  Only  promise  me  that  you  will  never  men¬ 
tion  the  past!  That  is  the  one  thing  that  I  can  not 
endure !” 

“But  some  time,  when  you  are  stronger,  you  will 
tell  me  the  whole  story,  will  you  not?” 

“Perhaps;  but  not  now.  Some  day,  when  I  know 
that  it  is  all  ended — when  I  am  sure  that  the  wretch¬ 
edness  had  done  its  deadly  work,  and  that  I  am  dying, 
then  I  shall  send  for  you  and  tell  you,  that  you  may 
tell  the  story  to  her,  my  little  Princess,  and  entreat  her. 
to  forgive  her  most  unhappy  mother.  You  will  do 
that  ?” 

She  was  looking  appealingly  in  his  face,  and  Shan¬ 
non  controlled  his  grinding  teeth  sufficiently  to  an¬ 
swer,  softly : 

“You  may  trust  me.” 

But  in  his  heart  he  was  saying: 

“Long  before  that  time  shall  have  come,  I  shall 
have  avenged  you,  my  poor,  suffering  darling.  You 
think  you  can  hide  the  identity  of  that  scoundrel  from 
me,  but  my  love  for  you  and  hatred  for  him  will  find 
him  out.” 

She  gratefully  pressed  the  hand  she  held. 

“And  you  will  not  tell  Miss  Kingman  what  I  have 
said?”  she  asked,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

“I  shall  tell  no  one  anything  that  you  may  say.” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


139 


“Thank  you  a  thousand  times!  Oh,  Mr.  Shannon, 
how  good  it  would  have  been  if  only  God  had  given 
me  a  pure  life,  that  I  might  have  been  your  wife!” 

His  face  flushed  darkly.  Great  cords  grew  in  his 
neck  and  a  flame  of  blood  seemed  to  flash  into  his 
eyes.  For  a  moment  she  was  frightened  at  the  fierce¬ 
ness  of  his  expression,  and  as  if  he  feared  himself,  he 
tuined  suddenly  and  almost  fled  through  the  door, 
pausing  not  to  say  a  single  word  of  farewell. 

She  stared  after  him  for  a  moment  in  astonished 
silence,  then  flung  herself  upon  the  floor  before  the 
rickety  chair,  and,  burying  her  face  upon  her  arms, 
burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  such  as  she  had  not  known 
in  many  days. 

Shannon,  meanwhile,  had  rushed  into  the  street. 
The  cold  air  soothingly  touched  his  hot  brow,  but  did 
not  calm  the  fever  that  raged  within  him.  For  the 
first  time  he  suspected  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  that 
JJdeous  shadow  upon  her  life,  Carroll  would  have  been 
his  wife,  happy,  innocent,  and  beloved.  It  did  not 
tend  to  lessen  his  rage  against  the  man  whom  he  now 
considered  to  have  robbed  him  as  well  as  destroyed 
the  peace  and  purity  of  the  woman  whom  he  adored. 

The  interview  had  but  tended  to  show  him  how  im^ 
possible  is  was  for  him  ever  to  forget  his  great  love 
for  the  one  woman  in  his  life  who  had  ever  touched 
his  heart,  and  his  anger  increased  in  proportion.  His 
hand  clinched  savagely  as  he  remembered  that  his 
rival  had  been  in  that  little,  meager  room  the  night 
before,  and  a  great  rage  filled  his  breast  as  he  remem¬ 
bered  that  but  for  Miss  Kingman  he  should  have 
known  who  he  wasr  and  so  not  have  been  balked  cS 
his  revenge. 


14(5 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“But  he  will  go  there  again !”  he  told  himself,  sav¬ 
agely.  “He  will  go  there  to  see  her,  and  I  shall  watch 
night  and  day  that  I  may  discover  his  identity.  Then 
when  I  have  done  it,  let  him  look  out  for  himself! 
It  will  be  his  life  or  mine  should  he  refuse  to  do  her. 
the  justice  that  her  innate  purity  demands.” 

Very  few  of  his  friends  would  have  recognized  Rus¬ 
sell  Shannon  in  the  haggard  man  who  walked  so  rap¬ 
idly  through  the  poor  quarter  of  the  city.  His  eyes 
were  blood-shot,  his  white  lips  compressed.  He  felt 
in  no  condition  to  go  to  his  home,  but  roamed  about 
the  city,  striving  to  fix  upon  some  plan  by  which  he 
could  be  sure  of  capturing  his  man. 

“She  will  never  acknowledge  the  truth,”  he  told 
himself.  “She  will  deny  to  the  bitter  end  that  I  am 
right  when  once  he  is  nailed ;  but  I  must  not  give  her 
the  opportunity.  I  could  not  have  been  mistaken  in 
the  expression  of  her  face  as  that  wretch  stood  before 
her.  She  has  no  friends  here,  and  yet  he  kissed  her 
child — her  child  whose  face  even  I,  who  love  her  so, 
did  not  see.  I  should  know  his  cursed  back  again  if 
I  should  see  it  across  the  earth.  There  is  no  danger 
but  that  I  shall  recognize  him,  and  then — ” 

Until  thoroughly  exhausted  in  mind  and  body  he 
walked,  half  conscious  that  he  had  neither  eaten  nor 
slept  since  the  night  previous ;  then  he  went  home. 

Miss  Kingman  was  at  the  window  when  he  mounted 
the  stoop  and  opened  the  door  with  his  latch-key. 
She  met  him  in  the  hall.  His  expression  frightened 
her. 

“Where  have  you  been,  Russell?”  she  asked,  hastily. 

\T  hardly  know,”  he  answered,  dully.  “Every* 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


141 


“You  have  seen  Carroll?” 

“Yes.” 

“Won’t  you  come  in  here  and  tell  me  what  she 
said?” 

“There  is  nothing  to  tell  that  we  did  not  both 
know  before.  She  would  say  nothing.” 

“And  have  you  seen — no  one  else?” 

“No  one,”  he  answered,  briefly. 

“I  called  there  to-day.” 

“Did  you?” 

“She  was  out,  or  sent  me  word  that  she  was.  She 
did  not  say  anything  about  moving,  did  she?” 

Shannon  started. 

“No,”  he  answered.  “Do  you  think  she  has  done 
that?” 

“I  thought  perhaps  she  might  have,  as  she  was 
evidently  anxious  to  avoid  us.” 

“Good  heavens!  I  never  thought  of  that.  What 
a  fool  I  have  been!  I  shall  never  forgive  myself  if  I 
have  lost  sight  of  her  through  any  carelessness  of 
mine.”  1 

“Don’t  think  of  it  now,  dear.  You  are  tired  and 
need  rest.  I  can’t  tell  you  how  you  have  changed 
since  last  night.” 

|  He  smiled  faintly. 

I  “Not  mere  than  I  have  within  the  last  few  months. 
I  am  going  to  my  room  now.  Make  some  excuse  to 
my  mother,  Jerry,  and  don’t  let  her  miss  me,  will 
you  ?” 

“I  will  try.” 

She  put  out  her  hand  and  touched  his  sympathet¬ 
ically.  He  went  hurriedly  to  his  room,  but  her  ques¬ 
tion  as  to  whether  he  thought  it  possible  for  Carroll 


142 


A  LITTLE  PRINOESS 


to  have  moved  prevented  the  rest  of  which  he  stood 
so  greatly  in  need. 

He  threw  himself  upon  the  bed,  but  burning 
thoughts  put  an  end  to  rest,  and  unable  to  endure,  it 
he  rose,  changed  his  clothes,  and  once  more  went  out] 
into  the  street.  It  was  about  dusk,  and  people  were; 
coming  home  from  their  daily  routine  of  business  ;  but( 
he  saw  nothing. 

>  He  had  determined  that  he  must  go  to  that  house 
where  he  had  seen  Carroll  to  ascertain  if  she  were 
still  there,  and  bent  upon  that  he  thought  of  nothing 
else. 

He  walked  rapidly  with  bent  head,  but  seemed  in¬ 
stinctively  to  know  when  the  street  was  reached.  He 
turned  into  it  and  glanced  up  at  the  number. 

As  he  did  so  he  saw  a  man  who  had  evidently  but 
(just  passed  from  the  house,  pause  to  light  his  cigar. 
,The  back  was  to  him,  and  with  a  gasp  almost  of  hor¬ 
ror  Russell  Shannon  recognized  the  man  of  the  night 
previous  who  had  been  the  guest  in  Carroll’s  room.  . 

For  a  moment  he  stood  as  if  petrified,  then  he 
strode  hastily  forward,  every  drop  of  blood  in  his 
body  seemingly  on  fire.  t 

He  caught  the  man  by  the  shoulder  and  whirled 
him  quickly  around,  then  fell  back  with  a  low  cry  of 
rage  and  almost  fear. 

!  “Harry  Winter!”  he  ejaculated.  “Good  God,  no! 
It  can  not  be !” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


143 


Chapter  XXIII. 


The  two  men  stood  staring  into  each  other’s  faces* 
speechless,  Russell  Shannon  in  horrified  consternation, 
Harry  Winter  in  simple  astonishment.  The  latter  was 
Ithe  first  to  recover  himself. 

I  “What  in  Heaven’s  name  is  the  matter  with  you, 
“man  ?”  he  demanded,  with  an  expression  somewhat  be¬ 
tween  amusement  and  anger.  “Have  you  gone  sud¬ 
denly  mad?  Is  that  the  latest  fashion  in  greeting  an 
acquaintance  ?”  ( 

The  sound  of  the  voice  seemed  to  arouse  Shannon 
from  the  apathy  that  had  fallen  upon  him.  A  frown 
contracted  his  brow.  *  *i 

This,  then,  was  the  man  whom  he  had  seen  in  the 
room  of  Carroll  Melbourne  the  night  before ;  this  was 
the  man  whose  lips  he  had  seen  touch  the  mouth  of 
her  infant  child;  this  was  the  man  into  whose  face 
she  was  smiling  as  she  had  never  smiled  into  his  own, 
and  this  was  the  man  whom  he  had  believed  to  be  the 
perfection  of  virtue  in  manhood — the  Christian  in 
whom  he  had  believed  and  whom  he  trusted, 
j  It  never  occurred  to  him  that  there  could  be  any 
mistake  on  the  subject.  It  never  does  to  a  convinced 
man,  no  matter  how  little  reason  there  may  be  in  his 
conviction. 

5  And  Harry  Winter  was  his  friend. 

But  he  had  forgotten  that  fact.  He  saw  in  him 
only  the  wretch  who  had  destroyed  the  innocence  and 
happiness  of  the  woman  whom  he  loved. 

He  bit  his  lip  hard  to  control  his  fierce  wrath,  the3 
in  a  voice  of  concentrated  rage,  ne  said: 


244 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“The  street  is  scarcely  the  place  for  our  conversa¬ 
tion.  I  have  that  to  say  to  you  which  can  not  be  said 
there.  Where  shall  we  go?” 

Winter  bowed.  He  understood  perfectly  that  some 
dreadful  thing  had  occurred,  but  there  was  yet  an 
element  of  fear  to  be  implanted  in  his  nature.  His 
pride  was  up  in  arms,  and  it  was  a  nature  filled  to 
the  brim  with  pride. 

“My  club  is  just  around  the  corner,”  he  said,  slowly. 

Shannon  flushed.  That  was  another  point  of  evi¬ 
dence  against  him,  if  another  had  been  needed. 

“We  can  discuss  the  matter  no  better  there  than 
here,”  he  said,  coldly. 

“Then  perhaps  my  room  will  answer  your  purpose. 
If  not,  name  a  place  yourself  and  I  will  meet  you 
there.” 

“Your  room  will  do.  It  is  nearer  than  mine.” 

Winter  bowed  again.  He  turned  without  a  word, 
and  in  silence  the  two  walked  in  the  direction  of  his 
room.  When  they  had  reached  it,  Winter  turned  up 
the  gas,  then  faced  his  one-time  friend  silently,  but 
With  inquiry  written  upon  his  face. 

Shannon  had  had  time  in  which  to  recover  himself, 
tfnd  make  some  plan  of  attack.  He  had  concluded 
tihat  to  make  an  immediate  stand  might  be  injurious  to 
the  cause  of  the  woman  whom  he  desired  to  cham¬ 
pion,  and  therefore  the  better  plan  might  be  to  try, 
So  conciliate. 

“Harry,”  he  said,  almost  gently,  “you  and  I  have 
been  friends  for  years.  You  were  the  husband  of  my 
sister  who  is  dead.  We  have  loved  each  other  in  the 
past  as  few  brothers  have  loved.  You  have  professed 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


145 


that  your  life  and  heart  have  been  given  up  to  religion, 
and  I  have  believed  you.  You  are  one  of  the  few; 
men  whom  I  have  trusted  with  more  than  my  life. 
It  is  very  hard  to  be  disappointed  in  you.” 

Winter  was  more  astonished  than  ever.  Some  fear, 
was  manifest  for  his  friend's  sanity,  but  it  was  ex¬ 
pressed  simply  in  his  face  and  not  by  words. 

“In  what  have  I  disappointed  you?”  he  asked, 
quietly. 

“In  the  greatest  of  all  things.” 

“I  never  professed  to  be  a  saint.” 

A  flush  of  anger  darkened  Shannon's  countenanceo 

“No,”  he  replied,  “but  you  did  profess  to  be  a 
Christian,  and  even  had  you  not,  your  very  manhood, 
to  take  nothing  else  into  consideration,  should  have 
kept  you  from  the  diabolical  act  that  you  have  com¬ 
mitted.” 

Winter’s  face  paled. 

“Of  what  is  it  that  you  accuse  me?”  he  demanded, 
icily. 

“It  is  utterly  useless  to  pretend  an  ignorance  that 
is  a  disgrace  to  you.  You  have  already  done  enough. 
For  God's  sake,  be  man  enough  to  stand  by  it  and  face 
the  future.” 

“I  honestly  think  you  have  gone  mad,  Russell. 
Tell  me  in  plain  English  what  is  it  that  you  mean? 
I  am  neither  afraid  to  face  the  knowledge  nor  the 
consequences  of  any  act  of  mine.  What  have  I 
done  ?” 

“You  know  but  too  well.  I  refer  to  that  poor  un¬ 
happy  child  whose  rooms  you  left  as  I  met  yovj y 

“You  mean  Mrs.  Mills?** 


146 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Winter’s  countenance  was  a  study. 

"Yes.” 

“And  why  should  I  not  call  there  if  I  wish?” 

Shannon  took  a  step  forward,  his  hand  clinched 
closely;  then  he  reconsidered  and  fell  back  almost 
fainting.  ? 

“Is  it  possible  that  you  can  ask  me  a  question  like 
that?  Is  it  possible  that  you  are  so  lost  to  all  de¬ 
cency  that  you  can  face  me  in  that  bold,  daring  way, 
knowing  that  the  whole,  despicable,  horrible  truth  is 
known  to  me?” 

“What  are  you  talking  about?” 

“The  girl  whom  you  call  Mrs.  Mills  is  the  only 
woman  whom  I  ever  loved.” 

“You  surprise  me;  and  yet  I  fail  to  see  what  that 
has  to  do  with  me.” 

“Good  God,  man!  have  you  neither  heart  nor  con¬ 
science  that  you  dare  stand  there  and  speak  like  that 
of  the  great  wrong  that  you  have  done  me  ?  Don’t  you 
know  that  today  she  might  have  been  my  honored 
wife  but  for  the  terrible  curse  that  you  have  put  upon 
her  life?” 

“I?” 

The  astonishment  in  the  tone  was  indescribable. 

“You!” 

There  was  a  long  silence  between  them,  then  very 
quietly  Winter  asked: 

“Who  has  told  you  this  most  remarkable  story?” 

“It  is  utterly  useless  for  you  to  deny  it.  I  know 
it  from  a  source  that  can  not  be  controverted.” 

“I  have  not  the  remotest  intention  of  denying  any¬ 
thing.”  answered  Winter,  haughtily.  “You  have  come 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


14  7j 

here  accusing  me  of  a  crime,  and  attacking  the  reputa¬ 
tion  of  an  innocent  woman.  If  I  did  not  believe 
you  to  be  stark,  staring  mad,  I  think  I  should  horse¬ 
whip  you.” 

Even  then  Shannon  could  not  see  that  those  were 
.the  words  of  a  guiltless  man.  He  saw  in  them  only 
.the  cover  that  a  scoundrel  uses  to  hide  his  dastardly 
shame.  He  flushed  dully,  but  again  reflected  that  he 
might  best  serve  Carroll  by  calmness. 

“It  is  utterly  useless  to  assume  that  tone  with  me,” 
jhe  said,  not  quite  able  to  conceal  the  scorn  and  in¬ 
dignation  he  felt.  “You  see  I  know  of  what  I  am 
speaking.’? 

“Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  Mrs.  Mills  told,  you 
this  ?” 

-  “Oh,  no!  She  loves  the  man  who  has  destroyed  her 
peace  too  well  for  that.  She  would  have  concealed 
your  crime  if  the  power  had  not  been  denied  her. 
She  would  have  shielded  you  even  at  any  cost  to  her 
nameless  child,  but  it  was  impossible.  In  the  name  of 
Heaven,  man,  why  have  you  done  it?  Surely  she  was 
young  and  beautiful  enough  to  have  satisfied  any  one 
iWhy  could  not,  you  have  married  her  in  the  first  place  ? 
But  you  will  not  refuse  to  do  it  now,  Harry.  Of  that 
*1  am  sure !” 

“Marry  Mrs.  Mills?  I?” 

“Yes.” 

“Most  certainly  not!” 

“And  why?” 

“For  the  very  simplest  reason  in  the  world:  I 
don’t  love  her!” 

“But,  Harry,  think  how  you  have  wronged  her! 


148  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

Think  what  her  life  must  be  if  yon  fail  to  make  of 
her  an  honest  woman?  Think — ” 

“Look  here,  Russell,  I  am  tired  of  all  this!  If  you 
have  not  gone  crazy  I  don’t  know  what  is  the  matter, 
with  you.  Once  for  all,  stop  it!  You  attack  me  in 
the  street  in  a  manner  that  would  warrant  any  man 
in  knocking  you  down;  then  you  come  to  my  room 
and  insult  me  with  the  most  outrageous  bit  of  slander 
that  was  ever  invented  against  any  man.  My  patience 
is  exhausted.  Because  you  are  my  brother-in-law  I 
have  tried  to  bear  with  your  wild  words,  but  I  am 
tired  of  them.  Now  either  leave  my  room  or  behave 
yourself  like  a  gentleman.” 

Shannon’s  breath  came  hard  and  fast. 

“You  dare  say  that  to  me!”  he  cried,  hoarsely—, 
“you  dare!  I  came  to  you  to  try  to  make  you  see 
your  duty;  I  came  to  try  to  undo  the  great  wrong 
that  you  have  done  in  the  only  way  that  an  honorable 
man  can  right  a  wrong  like  that,  and  an  insult  is  the 
reward  I  receive.  I  see  now  that  I  must  treat  you 
as  a  gentleman  must  always  treat  a  scoundrel.  You 
shall  marry  the  woman  whom  you  have  wronged — you 
shall  give  her  child  a  name,  or  by  Heaven  you  shall 
answer  to  me  for  it !” 

“In  what  way?” 

“With  your  dastardly  life!” 

Winter  laughed. 

“Duels  are  out  of  fashion  in  these  days,”  he  said, 
coldly,  “and  even  if  they  were  not,  I  should  still  re¬ 
fuse  to  fight  you.  There  is  no  reason  why  I  should. 
I  tell  you  that  my  patience  is  exhausted.  Now,  leave 
my  room  or  I  will  have  you  locked  in  a  madhouse.” 

“  Scoundrel  l” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


143 


The  words  came  through  the  white  lips  simultane* 
ously  with  a  spring,  and  Shannon’s  long,  strong  fingers 
closed  around  Winter’s  throat. 


Chapter  XXIV. 

i  ■ 

j  • 

*  There  were  roses  upon  the  table  in  the  sitting- 
room  that  Mrs.  Millbourne  occupied,  roses  upon  the 
table  and  white  hyacinths  in  a  pretty  jar  close  by; 
whose  fragrance  filled  the  atmosphere  delightfully. 
The  room  was  furnished  in  no  wise  different  from 
what  it  had  been  upon  that  afternoon  that  Carroll 
had  bidden  it  an  eternal  farewell,  but  there  was  some¬ 
thing  about  it  that  gave  it  a  degree  of  comfort,  a 
home-like  appearance  that  it  had  not  possessed  at  that 
time. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  flowers,  but  there  were  other 
things  also  that  Ballard  Hilliard  had  provided — ferns 
in  the  windows,  a  basket  of  fruit  in  the  corner,  and 
little  touches  of  brightness  in  that  line  that  only  wealth 
can  purchase,  particularly  at  that  season  of  the  year, 

Millicent  Millbourne  sat  before  a  not  overbrilliant 
fire,  toasting  her  toes  and  enjoying  a  delicious  pear 
from  the  plentiful  supply.  There  was  neither  happi¬ 
ness  nor  content  in  her  expression,  neither  resignation 
nor  hope,  but  a  certain  helplessness  that  was  infinitely; 
appealing. 

She  turned  her  head  slightly  as  a  knock  sounded  up¬ 
on  the  door,  but  rose,  extending  her  hand  with  a  faint 
smile  as  she  saw  who  her  visitor  was. 


150  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

“Mr.  Hilliard,”  she  exclaimed,  with  genuine  pleas¬ 
ure,  “this  is  kind.  I  have  no  friend  who  remembers 
me  as  you  do.  The  basket  of  fruit  came  half  an  hour 
ago.  Won’t  you  help  me  to  enjoy  it?” 

“Thank  you,”  he  replied,  selecting  a  few  grapes. 
“I  was  half  afraid  I  should  find  you  out  this  evening, 
and  as  I  had  some  particular  business  upon  which  I 
■wished  to  see  you,  and  more  especially  as  I  am  going 
away  to-morrow,  I  should  have  had  to  await  your  re¬ 
turn.” 

“You  are  going  away  to-morrow?” 

“To  bring  Miss  Kingman  home.” 

“Oh!  I  had  forgotten  her  week  is  up.  When  is 
your  marriage  to  be,  Mr.  Hilliard?” 

His  face  flushed.  He  had  never  become  quite  ac¬ 
customed  to  hearing  the  mother  of  Carroll  speak  to 
him  so  calmly  of  his  marriage  to  another  woman. 

“I  don’t  know,”  he  answered,  wearily.  “Miss 
Kingman  seems  in  no  hurry,  and  I  don’t  feel  inclined 
to  push  her  beyond  her  desire.” 

“Arid  yet  she  loves  you.  Of  that  I  am  sure.” 

“Yes,”  stammered  the  young  man. 

“I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you  married,  because  I  think 
you  will  both  be  happier.  You  are  devoting  too  much 
time  to  your  work.  You  won’t  mind  my  speaking 
to  you  in  this  way,  will  you? — because  I  am  old 
enough  to  be  your  mother,  you  know.  And  then  you 
have  given  me  your  friendship  of  your  own  accord. 
It  is  very  dear  to  me,  Mr.  Hilliard.” 

He  took  her  hand  and  pressed  it  tenderly.  A 
close  observer  might  have  seen  that  there  were  tears 
in  his  ej'es. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


151 


1 1  # 

“I  like  to  have  you  speak  to  me  as  if  you  were  my 

mother,”  he  said,  very  softly.  “My  own  mother 
died  years  ago  you  know,  and  I  feel  very  forlorn  and 
lonely  sometimes  with  no  one  to  advise  or  counsel  me. 
1  wish  you  would  speak  to  me  sometimes  as  if  I  were 
really  your  son.  I  wish  you  would  try  to  feel  toward 
me  as  if  I  were.” 

Mrs.  Millbourne  was  still  smiling,  but  so  tremu¬ 
lously  that  even  Ballard  knew  that  it  was  through  a 
mist  of  tears.  ^ 

“I  think  I  do  feel  like  that,”  she  replied,  her  voice 
breaking  over  the  simple  words.  “It  was  very  good 
of  God  to  send  me  a  son  when  he  took  my  daughter. 
X  can  scarcely  understand  yet  the  sympathy  that  has 
been  established  between  us,  Mr.  Hilliard,” 

He  had  sat  down.  Wearily,  miserably  he  rested 
bis  elbow  upon  his  knee  and  concealed  his  face  in  his 
hand. 

“Those  are  things  which  one  never  understands,” 
he  answered. 

She  looked  at  him  curiously. 

“But  in  our  case  it  was  most  singular,  I  am  old, 
you  are  young ;  I  am  poor,  you  are  one  of  the  favored 
of  the  gods ;  I  am  miserable,  and  you  are  happy — ” 

|  “Happy !” 

p|  He  had  articulated  the  word  before  he  was  aware 
of  it,  and  in  a  way  that  would  have  told  his  pitiful 
story  to  the  most  careless. 

She  put  out  her  hand  as  he  would  have  risen,  and 
placed  ^t  upon  his  shoulder. 

“Mr,  Hilliard — Ballard!”  she  exclaimed,  earnestly, 
“you  said  but  now  that  you  wished  me  to  peak  to 


152 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


you  as  if  you  really  were  my  son.  Forget  for  the 
time,  if  you  can,  that  you  are  not,  and  tell  me  what 
it  is  that  is  troubling  you.  I  have  seen  for  some 
time  that  you  are  not  happy,  but  have  been  forced  to 
hold  my  tongue  and  say  nothing;  but  it  is  glowing 
upon  you  instead  of  lessening.  You  have  everything 
to  make  life  blessed — wealth,  fame,  honor,  the  girl  you 
love — 75 

She  felt  a  shiver  pass  over  him,  and  paused. 

"Ballard,”  she  whispered,  when  she  could  beat- 
the  silence  no  longer,  "what  is  it  that  you  would  have 
me  understand?  It  can’t  be  possible  that  you  do— 
not  love — your — ” 

He  rose  suddenly,  shaking  off  her  hand  as  if  its 
touch  hurt  him.  He  leaned  over  and  kissed  her 
cheek  swiftly. 

"There  are  some  things  of  which  even  a  dearest 
mother  must  not  speak  to  her  son,”  he  said,  hurriedly. 
"This  is  one  of  them.  Forget  that  we  have  spoken 
upon  the  subject  at  all,  dear  Mrs.  Millbourne.  My 
betrothed  wife  is  a  thousand  times— ten  thousand 
times  too  good  for  me!  If  I  but  deserved  the  love 
that  she  has  given  me  I  might  be  a  happier  man ;  but 
I  do  not,  and,  God  help  me !  I  never  shall.” 

"My  poor  boy!” 

She  had  risen  and  was  standing  with  one  of  her 
hands  clasped  in  his,  the  other  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Hush!”  he  cried,  a  spasm  of  pain  contracting  his 
features.  "I  tell  you  I  can’t  bear  it!  You  don’t  under¬ 
stand — you  never  will — but  my  conscience  is  driving 
me  mad !” 

"You  do  not  love  her,  and  yet  you  would  marry  her 
because  she  loves  you.  Is  not  that  it,  Ballard  ?” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


153 


He  groaned. 

“Don’t!”  he  cried,  pleadingly.  “I  tell  you  I  can't 
bear  it!  Come,  let  me  tell  you,”  lifting  his  hair  from 
his  forehead,  where  great  beads  of  perspiration  stood. 

!  “I  came  upon  business,  I  told  you.  Do  you  remember 
that  I  spoke  to  you  of  a  friend  of  mine  who  is  a  pub¬ 
lisher?  He  wants  an  article  of  Daudet’s  translated. 
Do  you  think  you  can  do  it  ?” 

She  tried  to  pull  herself  back  to  the  business  groove 
again,  but  her  heart  was  very  heavy.  It  required  a 
moment  of  reflection  before  she  could  quite  compre¬ 
hend  what  he  had  said ;  then  she  answered,  wearily : 

“Oh,  yes!  I  don’t  know.  I  have  never  done  any¬ 
thing  of  that  kind;  but  I  can  try.  Does  it  require 
much  skill?” 

“Not  any  more  than  you  possess.  There  is  a  great 
field  open  for  you  if  you  succeed  with  this.  There 
will  be  no  more  drudgery,  no  more  sewing  until  your 
eyes  are  out  and  your  health  is  broken.  You  will  be 
quite  your  own  mistress,  and  in  a  line  of  life  that  will 
suit  you  intellectually  as  well  as  physically.  It  will 
not  give  you  so  much  time  to  think  of  your  own  sor¬ 
rows,  because  you  will  be  immersed  in  those  of  others. 
I  have  recommended  you  very  highly  to  my  friends, 
and  I  hope  you  will  try  very  hard  for  my  sake.  I  am 
greatly  interested.” 

“How  good  you  are!” 

“For  the  love  of  Heaven  don’t  say  that  of  me!  It 
makes  me  feel  the  greatest  scoundrel  under  the  sun.” 

“You  are  too  sensitive.  What  friend  have  I  ever 
had  who  w^as  to  me  what  you  are?  Are  you  not  my 
son  ?” 


154 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


His  brow  contracted.  For  a  moment  his  teeth  were 
buried  deeply  in  his  lip;  then  he  hurriedly  held  out 
his  hand. 

“  Good-bye !”  he  exclaimed,  hoarsely. 

“Good-bye.  Shall  I  get  this  manuscript  when  you 
return  ?” 

“My  friend  will  send  it  up  to-morrow.  I  wish  you 
Would  promise  that  at  my  next  call  you  will  read  me 
the  first  chapter.” 

“You  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  lose  no  time.  God 
bless  you,  my  dear  boy,  and  send  you  the  happiness 
that  you  deserve !” 

He  did  not  give  her  an  opportunity  of  saying  more, 
but,  lifting  her  hand  to  his  lips,  he  pressed  it  there 
for  a  moment,  then  dropped  it  and  went  hurriedly 
from  the  room. 

Poor  Hilliard!  It  seemed  to  him  that  she  was  all 
that  he  had  left  in  life,  and  his  sorely  tried  heart  clung 
to  her  as  if  she  had  indeed  been  his  mother;  yet  his 
conscience  was  terribly  aroused  as  he  remembered  that 
but  for  him  her  beloved  daughter  might  have  been  be¬ 
side  her.  He  felt  like  a  hypocrite,  a  scoundrel,  and 
yet  he  knew  that  without  him,  life  would  have  been 
hideously  hard  for  her  to  bear.  She  seemed  to  lean 
upon  and  cling  to  him,  and  he  had  been  able  to  provide 
her  with  a  number  of  little  comforts  that  had  made 
existence  easier. 

And  how  she  appreciated  his  friendship! 

“Dear  boy!”  she  murmured  as  he  left  her.  “What 
an  awful  contemplation  it  is  that  life  is  so  at  sixes 
and  sevens  with  us  all !  I  believe  he  loved  Miss  King- 
man,  yet  I  have  seen  for.  some  time  that  he  was  not 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


155 


happy.  He  is  too  honorable  to  fail  to  keep  his  part 
of  the  compact  They  have  been  engaged  for  years. 
Poor  boy!  how  I  wish  I  could  help  him  in  his  sorrow 
as  he  has  in  mine!  How  I  wish  that  I  could  be  the 
comfort  to  him  that  he  has  been  to  me!  There  is  no 
nobler  man  on  all  Gods  earth  than  Ballard  Hilliard V* 

His  sorrow  touched  her  heart  as  nothing  had  had 
power  to  do  since  that  morning  when  he  had  brought 
home  the  supposed  body  of  her  dear  child,  and  think¬ 
ing  of  that,  she  sat  down  at  a  little  desk  that  the  room 
contained — a  little  thing  of  no  value  that  had  been 
Carroll’s — and  leaned  her  head  upon  her  hand.  Her, 
other  hand  was  pulling  carelessly  at  a  tiny  piece  of 
wood  that  projected  from  the  under  part  of  one  of  the 
drawers. 

She  was  not  conscious  of  her  movements,  but  was 
thinking  deeply,  when  suddenly,  to  her  astonishment, 
a  little  aperture  or  drawer,  of  whose  existence  she  was 
unaware,  opened.  It  rather  startled  her,  arousing  her 
as  it  did  so  suddenly  from  her  meditations. 

She  looked  at  it  closely,  then  drew  it  out. 

Behind  it  she  saw  a  letter  that  had  evidently  slipped 
over  the  back.  She  drew  it  out  and  held  it  in  her 
hand  for  many  minutes  before  opening  it.  The  envel¬ 
ope  was  addressed  to  Ballard  Hilliard  in  the  hand¬ 
writing  of  her  daughter. 


156 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  XXV. 


The  atmosphere  seemed  to  have  grown  dense  and 
murky  about  Millicent  Millbourne.  She  breathed 
with  difficulty.  She  seemed  to  understand  that  an¬ 
other  crisis  in  her  singularly  unhappy  life  had  been 

reached. 

She  could  not  have  defined  her  sensations  nor  put 
her  fears  into  words,  but  it  appeared  to  her  that  some 
message  had  been  sent  to  her  from  the  dead.  A  deadly 
pallor  settled  upon  her  features.  Her  head  reeled,  and 
with  a  sob  she  allowed  her  face  to  fall  upon  her  arm 
that  rested  upon  the  little  desk. 

What  was  it  that  she  feared? 

She  could  not  have  told  if  her  very  soul  depended 
upon  it,  yet  there  it  was  before  her,  this  intangible 
something,  spectral  but  defiant. 

She  raised  her  head  and  turned  the  letter  over  in 
her  hand.  The  seal  was  unbroken. 

Did  Carroll  think  she  had  mailed  the  letter  and 
leave  it  there  through  forgetfulness?  She  could  not 
answer  her  own  query.  She  was  aware  that  Carroll 
had  known  Ballard  Hilliard,  but  not  sufficiently  well 
to  write  to  him. 

And  then,  did  not  the  letter  belong  to  him?  And 
had  she  the  right  to  read  it? 

At  first  it  seemed  to  her  that  in  honor  she  must 
send  it  to  him  unread,  and  there  was  something  like 
relief  in  the  thought.  Then  she  remembered  that  per¬ 
haps  Carroll  had  reconsidered  and  did  not  v/ish  it 
sent. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


157 


What  should  she  do  ? 

Decidedly  the  course  of  honor  was  to  throw  the 
letter  into  the  fire  unread.  She  approached  the  little 
smoldering  embers  and  more  than  once  made  the  effort 
to  place  the  letter  upon  the  fast-dying  coals,  but  each 
time  her  hand  was  withdrawn. 

•  rWhy  should  she  not  read  what  her  daughter  had 
written?  she  asked  herself  proudly,  as  if  resenting  the 
insult  that  her  own  thought  had  offered.  Did  she 
suspect  her  own  pure  child  of  writing  words  to  any 
man  that  she  might  not  see? 

A  flush  suffused  her  face  at  the  thought.  She  com¬ 
pressed  her  lips  firmly,  and  with  steady  fingers  tore  the 
end  from  the  envelope.  With  great  deliberation  she 
unfolded  the  letter. 

Again  there  was  a  moment  of  hesitation.  She  turned 
the  lamp  a  trifle  higher.  Her  eyes  sought  the  sheet 
of  paper  once  more. 

“For  the  last  time,  my  own  Ballard!” 

That  was  what  she  read,  and  then  the  letter  fell. 

She  never  knew  how  long  she  stood  there  staring 
into  the  dying  embers.  She  never  remembered  after¬ 
ward  what  her  sensations  were,  but  she  was  recalled 
to  herself  by  a  terrible  numbness  in  her  limbs.  With 
a  weariness  that  was  like  death  she  sunk  into  a  chair, 
then  shuddered  as  she  saw  the  letter  lying  there  at 
her  feet.  It  seemed  like  a  serpent  that  was  stinging 
her  with  its  very  presence. 

Then  suddenly  some  thought  seemed  to  return  fo 
her  paralyzed  brain. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


158 

“I  an:  a  fool!”  she  cried  out,  harshly.  "Of  what 
is  it  that  I  am  accusing  my  dead  one?  I  should 
strangle  the  person  that  dared  suggest  that  all  was 
not  well  with  her,  and  yet  here  in  my  own  mind  I  am 
insulting  her  memory.  There  is  some  secret  she  was 
too  unhappy  to  tell  even  me,  but  I  will  find  out  now, 
and  then  I  will  understand  that  poor  boy’s  misery 
perhaps.” 

She  picked  up  the  letter  once  more  and  eagerly  be¬ 
gan  its  persual. 

l 

1  “I  know  that  I  am  doing  wrong  to  write  you,  be-, 
longing  as  you  do  to  another,  but  surely  God  will 
forgive  me  in  that  it  is  an  eternal  farwell  that  I  shall 
say — an  eternal  farwell  to  you  and  the  happiness 
that  we  both  knew  in  the  dear,  dead  past  when  we 
belonged  to  each  other  alone,  or  I  thought  we  did.  I 
am  going  away,  dear — away  on  that  long  journey 
that  we  must  all  take  sooner  or  later,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  that  it  would  be  made  easier  by  knowing  that 
1  had  said  a  last  word  to  you.  I  should  go  to  see  you 
but  I  dare  not  trust  myself.  Oh,  dearest  heart,  it  is 
bitterly  hard !  Don’t  think  that  I  blame  you.  I  should 
perhaps  have  done  the  same  thing  myself,  for  I  know 
that  you  loved  me  even  as  I  loved  you.  That  makes 
the  thought  of  the  sin  of  the  last  few  months  more 
bearable,  for  I  know  God  will  forgive  me  when  I  re* 
member  His  words  of  that  other  Magdalene:  She 
sinned  much  in  that  she  loved  much.” 

"Good  God!” 

The  words  fell  from  the  poor  mother’s  lips  with 
a  white-heat  horror  that  was  indescribable.  A  blind- 


159 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

tress  had  seized  upon  her.  The  letter  was  clutched 
closely  in  her  long,  stony  fingers.  She  was  staring 
at  it  dumbly,  with  wild,  sightless  eyes.  Her  form 
was  rigid,  her  face  like  marble. 

She  seemed  to  take  no  note  of  time.  A  bell  in  a 
neighboring  steeple  struck  the  hour  twice,  but  she  had 
not  heard.  If  a  single  thought  had  come  to  lift  the 
awful  horror  that  had  settled  upon  her  brain,  her 
countenance  gave  no  indication  of  it.  The  letter  was 
still  before  her.  A  loud  knock  upon  her  door  aroused 
her. 

Mechanically  she  rose,  feeling  stiff  and  sore,  and, 
Walking  heavily  across  the  floor,  opened  the  door. 

A  messenger  stood  there  with  a  letter  and  a  package. 
She  took  both,  signed  her  name  to  the  tiny  paper  he 
carried,  then  closed  the  door.  •  Unconsciously  she 
opened  the  note  and  read : 

“My  Dear  Mrs.  Millbourne. — I  found  the  pack¬ 
age  from  my  friend  Delevan  upon  my  return  home. 
As  I  leave  by  a  very  early  train  to-morrow,  I  con¬ 
cluded  that  I  would  send  it  to-night.  Let  everything 
else  go  and  do  your  best  upon  this,  as  a  future  of  fame 
and  wealth  depends  upon  your  success. 

“God  bless  you!  With  fond  affection,  believe  me, 
Yours  most  sincerely, 

“Ballard  Hilliard.” 

She  crushed  the  offensive  paper  in  her  hand,  her 
teeth  meeting  each  other  in  a  crunching  way,  such 
as  one  has  heard  from  an  angry  animal.  Her  eyes 
gave  forth  a  sort  of  green  flame. 


160 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


She  flung  the  thing  from  her  into  the  embers  that 
were  dead  now,  her  lips  straight  and  stiff,  but  words 
issuing  from  them. 

“Curses  upon  you!”  she  cried,  hoarsely.  “Curses 
upon  you  and  yours  forever  and  forever!  You  have 
robbed  me  of  my  daughter  and  yet  you  dare  to  come 
here  to  me  with  your  words  of  sympathy  and  condo¬ 
lence.  You  meet  her  heart-broken  mother  with  a  lie 
upon  your  false  lips — you  who  are  her  daughter’s 
murderer.  You  think  to  ease  your  cursed  conscience 
by  offering  her  desolate  mother  a  means  of  earning  a 
livelihood.  You  think  to  deceive  that  other  pure  girl 
who  trusts  you,  but  I  swear  that  you  shall  not !  Oh, 
God!  why  in  this  land  that  prides  itself  upon  its  jus¬ 
tice  is  there  not  some  punishment  for  a  wretch  like 
that?” 

She  paused  for  a  moment  with  uplifted  hand,  then 
memory  returned  to  her  of  that  last  conversation  she 
had  had  with  Carroll  in  that  room.  It  all  came  back 
word  for  word  as  it  had  been  spoken,  and  a  hideous 
agony  filled  her  countenance.  Great  tears  poured  over 
the  white  face,  and  she  fell  upon  her  knees,  lifting 
her  folded,  trembling  hands  as  if  in  supplication. 

“My  darling,  my  darling!”  she  whispered,  hoarsely, 
“could  you  not  understand  your  mother’s  heart?  I 
told  you  that  death  was  preferable  to  disgrace,  but  I 
did  not  mean  it,  dear.  It  might  have  been  so  in  other 
cases,  but  not  for  you,  my  love — not  for  you!  Oh, 
Carroll,  come  back  to  me!  Come  back,  my  darling! 
I  will  be  so  tender,  so  true!  Never  a  word  of  re¬ 
proach  shall  pass  my  lips.  Oh,  God,  have  pity  upon 
me !  Let  me  suffer  anything — anything,  only  give  me 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


161 


back  my  child!  It  is  too  late!  Too  late!  And  I 
drove  her  from  me!  I  see  it  all  now,  so  clearly,  so 
cruelly  clear,  Carroll,  can  you  hear  me  up  there  in 
heaven?  Can  you  see  how  your  poor  mother  suffers? 
Do  you  understand  that  she  did  not  mean  what  she 
said  to  you,  and  that  she  would  give  her  life — yes,  her 
very  soul — if  she  could  bring  you  back?  Oh,  my  dar¬ 
ling,  my  darling !” 

She  fell  forward  upon  her  face,  sobbing — sobbing 
in  a  way  that  no  words  can  describe. 

She  lay  there  until  the  gray  of  the  morning  stole 
through  the  windows,  weeping  and  moaning,  calling 
upon  her  loved  one  for  forgiveness,  begging  of  God 
that  she  might  come  to  her  desolate  mother  if  for  a 
moment,  but  to  speak  one  word  of  love  and  consola¬ 
tion.  Then  as  the  morning  came  and  reality  told  her 
that  what  she  asked  was  impossible,  she  rose  and 
looked  about  her. 

Carroll’s  letter  was  still  in  her  hand,  the  French 
novel  lay  upon  the  floor  unwrapped,  and  Ball&rd  Hill¬ 
iard’s  note  was  upon  the  gray  ashes  where  she  had 
thrown  it.  A  smile  that  was  almost  cruel  came  over 
her  features.  Her  eyes  were  upon  it,  and  to  it  she 
seemed  to  speak. 

“I  shall  make  you  suffer,”  she  said,  huskily,  “even 
as  you  have  made  her  and  me  suffer.  You  think  you 
can  escape  the  vengeance  of  a  mother?  We  shall  see! 
I  know  where  to  strike  you  hardest,  and  as  there  is  a 
God,  I  will  do  it!” 


262 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  XXVI. 


Geraldine  Kingman  was  standing  before  the  win¬ 
dow  in  the  drawing-room  of  the  Shannon  residence, 
beating  a  tattoo  upon  the  glass  with  the  tips  of  her 
slender  fingers,  but  the  slight  noise  had  not  the  power, 
to  recall  her  wandering  thoughts. 

She  was  thinking  of  Carroll  and  of  Ballard  Hilliard, 
thanking  God  half  unconsciously  that  the  man  -whom 
she  loved  was  innocent  of  any  wrong;  thinking  of 
how  eternally  what  she  had  discovered  had  separated 
those  two. 

1  “Her  own  act  has  made  marriage  between  them 
impossible,”  she  said  aloud,  but  still  speaking  to  her¬ 
self,  “and  the  kindest  thing  I  can  do  is  to  keep  her 
existence  a  secret.  It  would  but  bring  disgrace  upon 
Sier  mother  and  unhappiness  to  Ballard,  and  do  Car- 
roll  no  good.  I  hope  I  am  not  selfish  in  my  decision 
Heaven  knows  I  want  to  act  for  the  best,  and  I  pray 
to  God  that  I  am  not  influenced  by  my  own  desire !” 

|  Then  she  was  silent  for  a  time,  and  stood  there 
With  knit  brows,  going  all  over  the  subject  again,  and 
seeing  less  reason  than  ever  why  she  should  make  it 
Known  that  Carroll  had  not  been  killed  in  the  railroad 
’disaster,  and  as  she  thought,  she  heard  the  bang  of  the 
great  front  door. 

t  She  turned  her  head  and  looked  down  the  stoop. 

It  was  Russell  Shannon  who  was  going  out. 

\  She  could  not  exactly  understand  it,  but  there  was 
something  in  his  very  carriage  that  made  her  realize 
that  all  was  not  well.  She  scarcely  knew  what  it  was 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


103 

she  feared;  certainly  she  could  have  given  no  reason 
why  she  should  dog  the  footsteps  of  that  man  whom 
she  knew  to  be  able  to  take  care  of  himself ;  but 
something,  the  conversation  of  the  night  before,  per¬ 
haps,  made  her  uneasy. 

Her  heart  gave  a  great  bound,  then  seemed  to  stand 
•itilk 

She  stood  for  a  moment  irresolute,  then,  without 
pausing  to  consider  her  act,  she  ran  upstairs,  secured 
her  hat  and  wrap,  and  though  it  was  growing  dark, 
she  hurried  out  into  the  street  alone,  not  even  leaving 
a  message  for  her  hostess. 

It  was  growing  dark,  yet  so  quick  had  her  move¬ 
ments  been  that  when  she  reached  the  street  she  dis¬ 
tinctly  saw  the  form  of  the  man  whom  she  wished  to 
put  sue  not  far  in  advance  of  her.  She  did  not  quicken 
hex  steps  to  overtake  him,  but  keeping  him  well  in 
sight,  that  she  might  not  lose  him  by  any  sudden  turn, 
she  followed  after. 

She  readily  recognized  the  fact  that  he  was  bending 
his  steps  towards  the  house  that  they  had  visited  to¬ 
gether  the  night  previous,  and  she  determined  that  if 
he  called  upon  Carroll  they  would  have  their  inter¬ 
view  together,  for  she  keenly  felt  the  responsibility; 
that  she  had  unintentionally  assumed. 

Still  she  did  not  join  him,  but  kept  up  her  position 
in  the  rear. 

She  was  a  very  few  feet  behind  when  he  turned  the 
corner  nearest  to  the  little  rickety  building,  her  veil 
drawn  well  across  her  face.  She  saw  Harry  Winter 
as  he  emerged  from  the  door-way  before  Shannon  had 
had  time  to  lift  his  eyes,  and  a  low  cry  escaped  her. 


164 


A  LITTLE  TRINCESS 


She,  too,  had  recognized  the  fact  that  he  was  the 
same  man  whom  they  had  seen  in  Carroll’s  room,  and 
fche  same  conclusion  was  arrived  at  that  had  so  dis¬ 
turbed  Shannon. 

Her  eyes  turned  upon  Shannon.  She  understood 
his  feelings.  She  saw  him  spring  forward.  She 
heard  the  exclamation  of  rage.  She  saw  him  whirl 
{Winter  about  as  if  he  had  been  but  a  ball,  and  then 
she  heard  the  cry  that  issued  from  his  white  lips  as 
Shannon  recognized  his  friend  and  brother-in-law.  | 

She  heard  the  conversation  that  followed  and  un¬ 
derstood  its  import,  yet  she  felt  then  that  she,  dared 
not  make  her  presence  known,  though  Winter  was  an 
old  friend  of  hers.  She  shrunk  back,  an  awful  fear 
tugging  at  her  heart,  for  she  had  read  aright  the  ex¬ 
pression  of  Shannon’s  face,  and  she  knew  that  some 
terrible  scene  was  about  to  follow. 

Her  resolution  was  quickly  taken.  She  would  know 
where  they  went  and  be  ready  to  take  action  in  the 
event  of  its  reaching  the  point  she  feared. 

She  flitted  along  behind  them  in  the  gathering 
gloom,  sometimes  almost  unable  to  keep  up  with  their 
long,  swinging  strides  without  running,  but  never  los¬ 
ing  them  for  a  moment.  She  saw  them  enter  the 
house  where  Winter  lived.  The  door  closed  upon 
them. 

She  paused  for  a  second  to  consider,  then  boldly 
mounted  the  steps. 

“Is  this  a  boarding-house?”  she  asked  of  the  serv¬ 
ant  who  answered  her  ring  at  the  bell. 

“No,  madame.  We  let  rooms.” 

“May  I  see  the  person  who  keeps  the  house  ?” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


165 


“Yes,  madame.  Walk  in,  please.” 

She  entered  the  drawing-room  and  sat  down.  It 
seemed  to  her  an  age  before  the  lady  of  the  house 
made  her  appearance.  She  was  growing  too  nervous 
to  have  borne  it  longer,  when  the  door  opened  and  a 
pleasant-faced  woman  entered.  Miss  Kingman  heaved 
a  sigh  of  relief. 

She  rose  and  went  straight  up  to  her,  knowing  that 
it  was  best  to  state  her  errand  boldly. 

“Madame,”  she  said,  endeavoring  to  speak  quietly, 
but  not  succeeding  very  well,  “I  have  come  upon  an 
errand  that  may  seem  singular  to  you,  and  yet  I  im¬ 
plore  you  to  grant  a  request  that  I  shall  make.” 

The  woman  looked  interested. 

“Won’t  you  be  seated?”  she  asked,  politely. 

Miss  Kingman  shook  her  head,  glancing  nervously 
in  the  direction  of  the  door. 

“No,”  she  answered.  “There  is  not  time.  You 
have  a  gentleman  boarding  with  you — Doctor  Harry 
Winter  ?” 

“Yes.” 

“He  came  in  but  a  moment  ago  with  another  gen¬ 
tleman.  They  have  gone  to  Doctor  Winter’s  room. 
Madame,  I  know  you  will  think  it  a  most  extraor¬ 
dinary  request,  but  I  want  to  ask  your  permission  to 
hear  the  conversation  that  passes  between  those  two.” 
»  The  woman  drew  back. 

“Are  you  a  detective?” 

“No.  It  is  my  desire  to  avoid  publicity  instead  of 
seeking  it.  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  there  will  be 
trouble  between  those  two,  and  if  it  really  comes  to 
that  I  wish  to  prevent  it.  I  should  prefer  their  not 


166 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


knowing  the  action  that  I  have  taken  in  the  event  o£ 
there  being  no  trouble  between  them,  but  I  greatly; 
iear  that  there  will  be  some  dreadful  result  from 
this  interview  if  you  refuse.” 

“I  do  confess  that  what  you  ask  is  most  extraor¬ 
dinary.  Doctor  Winter  has  been  in  my  house  for, 
some  time,  and  I  have  found  him — ” 

“A  gentleman  always,  but  the  greatest  gentleman 
upon  earth  will  get  into  trouble  sometimes.  I  am  ser¬ 
iously  afraid  that  you  will  regret  it  if  you  refuse. 
Come  with  me,  if  you  will;  then  if  you  think  I  have 
heard  that  to  which  I  should  not  have  listened,  take 
me  before  those  two  men  when  their  conversation  is 
ended.  But,  first,  you  must  agree  that  anything  you 
hear  is  to  remain  a  secret.” 

'“It  is  foolish  to  ask  that,  because  you  don’t  know 
whether  I  should  keep  my  word  or  not,  even  under 
any  promise.  My  honor  is  sufficient  without  my  word, 
though  I  confess  that  it  seems  sadly  compromised  in 
yielding  to  your  request.” 

“But  you  will  not  refuse?” 

“I  will  not.  You  are  a  lady.  We  will  trust  each 
other  for  once.” 

She  led  the  way,  and  the  two  entered  a  room  ad¬ 
joining  that  occupied  by  Doctor  Winter  and  com¬ 
municating  by  a  door.  Every  word  was  distinctly 
audible. 

The  landlady  was  convinced  that  she  had  not  done 
wrong  in  granting  the  request  of  her  strange  visitor 
when  she  heard  the  words  addressed  by  Doctor  Win¬ 
ter  to  his  guest : 

“Now  either  leave  my  room  or  behave  yourself  like 
a  gentleman.” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


16  % 


We  know  what  followed. 

Shannon’s  voice  was  lifted  in  anger.  The  woman 
drew  back,  convulsively  clutching  the  arm  of  her 
guest. 

“What  are  we  to  do?”  she  gasped.  “They  will  fight 
sure!” 

Geraldine  Kingman  was  white  to  the  lips.  Some¬ 
thing  in  Doctor  Winter’s  manner  had  made  her  doubt 
his  guilt,  though  she  scarcely  confessed  it  even  to 
herself.  The  words  of  the  lady  beside  her  seemed  a 
positive  relief. 

“We  must  prevent  that,”  she  said,  hurriedly.  “It 
was  fear  of  that  which  brought  me  here.  Is  there 
any  way  through  which  we  can  get  into  that  room  ?” 

“None  if  they  have  locked  the  door  leading  to  the 
hall.  This  one  is  fastened  by  a  very  heavy  bolt  on  the 
other  side.” 

Miss  Kingman  leaned  forward  and  applied  her  eye 
to  the  key-hole :  She  shrunk  back  with  a  cry  of 
alarm. 

“My  God!”  she  exclaimed,  “There  is  not  a  moment 
to  be  lost.  Come!” 

She  dashed  into  the  hall,  followed  closely  by  the 
woman  of  the  house,  and  flung  open  the  door  leading 
to  Harry  Winter’s  room. 

Shannon’s  fingers  were  clasping  Winter’s  throat. 

“For  the  love  of  Heaven,  stop!”  she  cried,  wildly. 
“Have  you  both  gone  mad?” 

She  was  between  them  almost  before  they  realized 
what  had  happened,  and  the  two  men  had  fallen  apart. 


168 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  XXVII. 


There  was  an  expression  half  of  anger,  half  of 
shame  upon  the  face  of  Russell  Shannon  as  he  realized 
what  had  happened ;  but  Harry  Winter’s  eyes  blazed 
with  wrath.  His  teeth  were  set  deeply  into  his  lips  to 
prevent  the  flow  of  indignant  words  that  he  felt  rising 
to  them. 

Miss  Kingman  glanced  from  one  to  the  other,  then 
her  womanhood  overcame  her,  and  she  would  have 
fainted  but  that  Winter  caught  her  in  time  and  placed 
her  upon  a  chair.  The  lady  who  kept  the  house  went 
forward  and  placed  her  arm  about  the  shrinking  girl. 
[White  and  giddy,  Geraldine  Kingman  sat  there,  but 
she  was  effectually  recalled  by  hearing  Russell  Shan¬ 
non’s  remark,  made  in  an  undertone,  to  Doctor  Win¬ 
ter. 

“We  will  meet  again  whenever  you  like;  only  let  it 
be  soon.  I  tell  you  that  this  is  a  matter  that  can  not 
— shall  not  rest.” 

Winter’s  face  crimsoned.  He  glanced  hastily  in  the 
direction  of  Miss  Kingman,  recognizing  readily  enough 
that  she  had  heard,  and,  worse  still,  that  she  under¬ 
stood  the  meaning  and  cause  of  the  remark. 

He  bowed  coldly  to  his  brother-in-law. 

Miss  Kingman  was  upon  her  feet  almost  imme¬ 
diately,  her  white  face  looking  spectral  against  her 
burning  eyes. 

“What  is  it  that  you  would  do?”  she  cried,  her 
hands  clasped  tightly  together,  her  voice  thick  and 
hoarse.  “Do  you  wish  to  make  the  shame  of  that 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


169 


poor  girl  public?  Is  it  your  desire  to  brand  her  before 
all  the  world?  She  is  dead  to  those  who  are  nearest 
to  her — whom  her  sorrow  would  most  disgrace ;  then, 
for  the  love  of  God,  let  her  remain  so !  Do  you  think 
that  your  fighting  can  erase  the  terrible  wrong  that 
has  been  done  her?  For  shame,  Russell!  Are  you  a 
man  or  child  that  you  allow  your  feelings  to  so  over¬ 
rule  your  reason  ?” 

!  Shannon  flushed,  but  Winter  had  grown  pale  as 
death.  He  was  watching  Miss  Kingman  with  an  ex¬ 
pression  of  countenance  that  was  like  that  of  a 
wounded  animal,  speechlessly  pleading. 

“I  do  not  intend  to  harm  her!”  Shannon  exclaimed, 
doggedly;  “but  I  swear  that  justice  shall  be  done 
her!” 

“And  do  you  think  that  fighting  can  force  any  but 
a  physical  coward?”  asked  Miss  Kingman,  heavily. 
“If  you  can  not  persuade  by  words — if  you  can  not 
convince  the  heart  through  the  reason — if  you  can  not 
make  one  see  the  wrong  he  has  done  and  repair  it 
by  kindness,  do  you  think  that  you  can  do  it  by 
force?” 

“Yes!” 

“Then  I  tell  you  that  you  can  not!  I  am  the  im¬ 
partial  friend  of  the  girl  whom  we  would  both  avenge 
if  we  could,  and  therefore  I  can  see  more  clearly  than 
you  can.  You  are  doing  her  more  harm  than  good. 
You  will  regret  your  act.  You  will  receive  no  thanks 
from  her.  Come  with  me,  at  least  until  you  have 
had  time  to  think  this  over.” 

She  held  out  her  hand.  For  a  moment  Shannon 
hesitated.  He  did  not  like  the  idea  of  being  treated  as 


170 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


if  he  were  a  boy  who  had  been  detected  in  some  fool¬ 
ish  quarrel  and  chidden  for  his  temper.  But  there  was 
nothing  that  he  could  do.  He  could  not  fight  in  the 
presence  of  ladies,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  say  anything 
further  upon  the  subject  to  Winter  in  their  presence. 

He  turned  quietly  and  picked  up  his  hat  from  the 
table  where  he  had  laid  it,  glancing  but  once  in  the 
direction  of  Winter. 

“To-morrow,”  he  said,  briefly. 

Then  he  offered  his  arm  to  Miss  Kingman. 

They  were  about  to  leave  the  room  together.  Win¬ 
ter’s  face  was  a  study.  He  seemed  to  be  struggling 
against  some  tremendous  emotion — some  overpower¬ 
ing  desire  that  finally  mastered  him.  Before  they  had 
reached  the  door  he  sprung  forward  and  caught  Miss 
Kingman’s  arm. 

“One  minute!”  he  cried,  hoarsely.  “I  scorn  to  ex¬ 
plain  anything  to  this  man  who  has  accused  me  of  so 
vile — so  loathsome  an  act,  and  more  especially  having 
known  me  and  been  my  friend,  as  I  believed,  for 
years ;  but  to  you  it  is  different.  I  can  not  let  you  go 
believing  me  capable  of  an  act  so  despicable.” 

Miss  Kingman  turned,  her  hand  grasping  Shannon’s 
arm  convulsively.  Her  color  came  and  went  with  sur¬ 
prising  rapidity.  She  leaned  faintly  against  the  door¬ 
casing,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  Winter’s  set  face. 

“Co  on,”  she  said,  dully. 

“I  don’t  know  what  startling  evidence  you  two  can 
have  against  me  to  accuse  me  of  a  dastardly  crime 
like  this,  but  before  Heaven  I  am  innocent!  I  swear 
to  you  upon  the  honor  of  a  gentleman  that  I  never 
even  knew  until  this  man  told  me  that  the  lady  in 
question  was  not  a  widow !” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


171 


Miss  Kingman  glanced  from  him  to  Shannon  in  a 
nervous,  questioning  way  that  showed  but  too  dearly 
that  her  convictions  were  much  shaken. 

Shannon  smiled  satirically. 

“Are  you  so  easily  convinced?”  he  asked,  coldly. 

“I  tell  you  again,”  exclaimed  Winter,  earnestly, 
“that  to  the  day  of  my  death  I  should  never  either  have 
acknowledged  or  denied  this  thing  to  Shannon,  neither 
should  I  have  taken  any  pains  to  convince  him  in  any 
way,  but  I  can  not  allow  myself  to  be  stamped  as  a 
scoundrel  in  the  eyes  of  the  woman  for  whom  I  en¬ 
tertain  the  greatest  respect,  without  at  least  an  effort 
to  clear  myself  of  the  false  charge.” 

“Then  you  are  not  guilty?”  said  Miss  Kingman, 
speaking  her  thoughts  aloud  without  intention. 

“I  am  not.  If  you  have  any  doubt  upon  the  subject, 
come  with  me  to  the  lady.  I  can  prove  to  you  by  her 
and  by  others  that  I  never  saw  her  in  my  life  until 
I  met  her  in  the  hospital  where  her  child  was  born. 
Her  peculiarly  friendless  condition  appealed  to  me, 
and  I  promised  to  do  for  her  what  I  could.  For  that 
purpose — simply  to  see  if  I  could  not  make  life  a 
trifle  less  hard  for  a  woman  whom  I  pitied,  I  called 
upon  her  twice  in  her  new  quarters.  I  was  there  last 
night,  and  again  to-night.  If  I  have  committed  a 
criminal  act  in  an  endeavor  to  lighten  a  burden  that 
seemed  to  me  too  heavy  to  be  borne  by  shoulders  so 
'frail,  then  I  am  guilty ;  but  in  nothing  else  am  I.” 

“Is  this  true?” 

“I  do  not  ask  you  to  take  my  word.  I  can  prove  afl 
that  I  have  said.” 

He  was  standing  with  his  arms  folded  upon  his 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


172 

breast.  His  face  was  magnificent  in  its  pallid  hauteur. 
Miss  Kingman  put  out  her  hand  to  him  impulsively. 
'He  flushed  deeply  as  he  took  it. 

“I  believe  you  without  proof,”  she  said,  with  emo¬ 
tion.  “I  need  no  other  voice  than  yours  to  tell  me 
that  you  are  innocent.  I  know  it.”  j 

He  looked  the  gratitude  that  for  a  moment  his  lips 
refused  to  utter. 

“Can  you  forgive  me?”  she  asked,  simply. 

“lliere  is  nothing  to  forgive.  You  are  not  to 
blame,”  he  answered,  slowly.  “I  can  not  sufficiently, 
express  my  regret  that  such  an  outrageous  scene  has 
occurred  in  your  presence,  but  I  thank  you  for  your 
confidence.  I  can  bear  anything  else  better  than  want 
of  that.” 

He  had  not  meant  to  say  so  much,  but  the  under¬ 
current  of  the  words  was  not  noticed  by  her.  She 
turned  to  Russell  Shannon,  and  there  were  tears  in 
her  eyes. 

“Can  not  you  also  see  that  he  is  speaking  the  truth?” 
she  asked,  tremulously.  “Can  you  not  see  that  you 
shall  have  to  look  further  for  the  guilty  man  in  this 
case?  Don’t  you  know  when  you  look  in  Harry  Win¬ 
ter's  face  that  he  is  incapable  of  the  act  that  we  have 
ascribed  to  him?”  f 

Shannon  did  not  speak.  His  eyes  were  fixed  search- 
ingly  upon  Winter’s  countenance,  but  the  latter  was 
not  looking  at  him.  Miss  Kingman  was  the  only  ob¬ 
ject  of  interest  in  that  room  to  him.  There  was  grati¬ 
tude  in  the  expression,  but  no  approach  to  guilt. 

*fOh,  Russell,  are  you  not  great  of  soul  enough  to 
acknowledge  your  error  when  you  have  made  one?” 


A  LITTLE  FRINCESS  173 

Usked  Miss  Kingman,  reproachfully,  not  understand¬ 
ing  his  silence. 

“Yes,”  he  answered,  quietly,  in  a  manly,  straight- 
{forward  way  that  was  infinitely  becoming  to  him.  “I 
am  ready  to  acknowledge  that  I  have  been  a  fool, 
blinded  by  my  own  stupefying  pain.  I  took  for, 
granted  a  thing  that  might  have  ruined  the  life  of  my 
friend,  or — made  of  me  a  murderer.  I  have  made  a 
great  ass  of  myself,  Harry.  I  have  accused  you  of 
a  thing  for  which  I  should  not  excuse  a  man  were  E 
in  your  place,  and  yet  I  ask  you  to  forgive  me.” 

For  a  moment  Winter  hesitated ;  then  he  put  out  his 
hand  and  grasped  that  of  his  dead  wife’s  brother. 

“Let  us  forget  it,”  he  said,  huskily. 

“Not  quite  that,”  returned  Shannon,  dully.  “I  can 
not  forget,  because  the  guilty  wretch  exists!  If  he 
were  dead  I  might  try,  but  as  long  as  he  lives  the  de¬ 
termination  shall  live  in  me  to  find  him  and  cause  him 
to  repair  the  horrible  wrong  he  has  done,  let  the  cir¬ 
cumstances  be  what  they  may.  I  shall  not  make  an¬ 
other  mistake  such  as  this,  but  when  I  have  found 
him  he  shall  understand  the  debt  that  he  has  got  to 
pay.”  j 

$  There  was  an  expression  in  the  eyes  that  made 
Miss  Kingman  shudder.  There  was  no  defined  thought 
in  her  mind,  but  somehow  she  dreaded  the  time  when 
Russell  Shannon  should  discover  the  man  whom  he 
sought.  She  would  have  scorned  herself  could  she 
have  realized  that  there  was  a  doubt  in  her  mind  of 
Ballard  Hilliard,  but  it  was  there,  gaunt  and  shad¬ 
owy,  but  still  a  doubt 

Her  lips  were  white  and  stiff  as  she  turned  to  leave 
*be  room. 


174 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  XXVIII. 


'Once  again  Russell  Shannon  and  Miss  Kingman 
were  detained  by  Harry  Winter. 

“While  I  thank  you  for  the  confidence  that  you 
have  shown  in  me,”  he  said,  with  dignity,  “it  is  not 
my  desire  that  there  should  be  the  remotest  doubt  at 
any  future  time  in  my  entire  innocence  of  this  charge,1 
and  therefore  I  ask  it  as  a  favor  that  you  will  go  with! 
me  to  call  upon  this  lady.  One  can  never  tell  what 
may  occur  in  the  future,  and  I  do  not  wish  that  there 
ever  should  come  a  time  when  the  matter  would  not 
be  quite  at  rest.” 

There  was,  of  course,  at  first  a  demur  from  both’ 
persons,  but  Doctor  Winter  insisted  so  strongly  upon 
his  point  that  they  finally  yielded,  and  together  they 
went  to  call  upon  Carroll. 

The  visit  was  not  fraught  with  any  degree  of  pleas¬ 
ure  to  any  one  of  the  four,  but  was  painful  in  the 
extreme.  Carroll’s  feelings  were  spared  all  that  was 
possible  for  justice  to  be  done  an  innocent  person. 

Perhaps  there  was  no  one  of  the  number  more 
thoroughly  miserable  as  they  left  the  wretched  room 
than  was  Miss  Kingman.  She  had  carefully  avoided 
Ballard  Hilliard’s  name,  even  in  the  private  conversa¬ 
tion  that  she  had  had  with  Carroll,  and  that  of  itself 
was  an  indication  of  the  suspicion  that  she  would 
never  have  acknowledged  to  even  her  own  heart. 

It  was  still  quite  early  when  the  trio  left  Carroll, 
and  at  their  invitation,  Doctor  Winter  accompanied 
them  home.  But  once  there,  Miss  Kingman  would 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


175 


have  excused  herself  and  gone  to  her  room  had  not 
Shannon  forestalled  her  by  a  request  that  he  be  ex¬ 
cused  for  half  an  hour,  and  also  that  they  found  that 
[Mrs.  Shannon  had  retired  to  her  room  with  a  most 
severe  headache. 

i  It  was  without  a  feeling  of  embarrassment  that 
Geraldine  Kingman  was  left  alone  with  Harry  Winter. 
I  She  was  thinking  too  much  of  Carroll — wondering, 
j|  with  a  vague  shiver  of  apprehension,  who  had  caused 
the  terrible  sorrow  in  that  young  life — scarcely  daring 
to  think,  yet  longing  to  be  alone,  when  she  realized 
that  he  was  speaking  to  her. 

‘‘Have  you  known  Mrs.  Mills — or  Miss  Millbourne 
**— long  ?”  he  asked. 

“All  her  life,  I  think,”  she  answered. 

;  “Then  surely  you  are  able  to  judge  something  of 
Whom  she  has  loved.” 

■  “No!”  she  exclaimed,  hastily,  endeavoring  to  sup¬ 
press  the  shudder  that  she  feared  he  might  observe. 
“I  do  not  know  whom  she  has  loved ;  I  do  not  even 
suspect.  There  was — one  who — loved  her — who 
would  have  made  her  his  wife!  but  she  was  not  will¬ 
ing.” 

*  “Poor  fellow!” 

I  “Why  do  you  say  that?” 

|  “Because  the  greatest  curse  that  can  befall  a  man 
is  to  love  without  being  loved  in  return.” 

“Or  a  woman,  either.” 

Miss  Kingman’s  head  was  lowered.  She  did  not 
speak  as  one  does  who  simply  acquiesces  in  a  state¬ 
ment,  or  even  as  one  who  sympathizes  in  an  assertion. 
Her  voice  was  almost  inaudible,  and  filled  with  a 
suffering  that  would  not  be  denied  expression. 


176 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Harry  Winter  started.  His  face  flushed.  He  rose 
and  stood  leaning  his  elbow  upon  the  mantlepiece, 
looking  down  upon  her.  The  room  was  lighted  only 
with  the  red  fire-glow  that  was  shining  on  them  both. 
He  locked  at  her  for  some  moments  in  silence,  won¬ 
dering  if  he  had  understood  her  aright.  When  he 
spoke  his  voice  trembled. 

"It  is  not  possible  that  you  could  know  that  from 
experience,”  he  said  softly.  "You  could  not  love 
without  reciprocation.” 

Something  in  the  tone,  something  in  the  scene 
seemed  to  arouse  all  the  womanly  weakness  in  Geral¬ 
dine  Kingman’s  nature.  A  slow  tear  trickled  through 
her  eyelids,  and  as  she  felt  it  upon  her  cheek  it  seemed 
to  break  down  every  barrier.  She  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands  and  sobbed  in  a  heartbroken  way  that 
seemed  to  unman  her  listener.  He  bore  it  for  some 
moments  in  silence;  then,  unable  to  endure  it  longer, 
he  knelt  beside  her  and  took  the  trembling  form  in  his 
arms. 

"What  is  it,  Jerry?”  he  whispered.  "Don’t  cry  like 
that,  my  darling ;  you  break  my  heart.  For  more  than 
a  year  I  have  nourished  and  cherished  the  hope  that 
one  day  I  might  win  you  for  my  wife.  The  death  of 
that  hope  is  almost  like  death  of  the  soul  to  me.  Jerry, 
do  you  know  what  it  is  that  you  are  forcing  me  to  be¬ 
lieve?  It  is  that  you  have  loved  not  wisely — ”  \ 

"But  too  well!”  she  interrupted,  striving  to  con-< 
trol  her  voice.  "Forgive  me.  I  should  not  have  sub¬ 
mitted  you  to  this  scene.  But  there  are  times  when  I 
am  so  weak— so  weak !” 

"And  the  naan  whom  you  love — ” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  177; 

“  Don’t  ask  me  that,  Harry.  And  yet  it  is  but  right 
that  I  should  tell  you.  I  am  his  promised  wife!” 

“You?” 

?  “Yes.  Did  you  not  know?  Had  you  not  heard  of 
my  engagement  of  years’  standing  to  Ballard  Hill¬ 
iard  ?” 

“I  never  knew.” 

“I  thought  every  one  did.” 

“But — I  don’t  quite  understand.  You  do  not  love 
him—” 

“It  is  not  that,  God  help  me!  It  is  that  he  does  not 
love  me!” 

“Jerry!” 

“You  see  how  weak  I  am  in  that  I  can  tell  you  this. 
There  is  no  one  in  all  this  world  to  whom  I  have 
spoken  on  this  subject  but  you.  I  did  not  intend  it.” 

“But  who  is  able  to  sympathize  with  you  as  I  am? 
5  who  have  suffered  in  like  manner? — I  who  am  suf¬ 
fering  now  as  never  man  did  before?” 

“And  all  because  of  me?” 

“All  because  I  love  you!” 

“Oh,  how  sorry  I  am!  I  never  suspected !  I — ” 

“Hush!  Don’t  think  that  it  is  necessary  to  speak 
to  me  like  that.  How  were  you  to  suspect  when  I 
have  kept  it  so  carefully  concealed,  lest  I  should  be¬ 
tray  it  at  a  time  that  was  inopportune,  and  so  lose  my 
chance?  Ah,  Jerry,  dearest  heart,  I  know  what  your 
misery  is !  But  tell  me,  dear,  what  shall  you  do?” 

“How  do  you  mean  ?” 

“Shall  you  marry  him?” 

“Yes.” 

There  was  something  dogged  in  the  manner  in  which 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


1178 

she  pronounced  the  word.  Winter  drew  back,  an  ex* 
pression  of  horror  in  his  eyes. 

“You  would  not  do  that,  Jerry!”  he  exclaimed, 
earnestly.  “Think,  dear,  what  you  are  saying.  He 
does  not  love  you.  Are  you  sure  of  that?”  r 

“I  have  tried  to  convince  myself  to  the  contrary, 
but  I  can  not.  I  don’t  know  why  I  tell  you  this.  God 
knows  it  is  humiliating  enough !” 

“You  tell  me  because  you  know  that  I  would  give 
my  life  to  aid  you.  You  tell  me  because  you  feel  in 
your  heart  that  I  would  gladly  give  every  joy  in  life 
if  I  could  but  bring  you  the  love  that  ought  to  be 
yoursc  But  may  it  not  be  possible  that  you  wrong 
him  ?” 

Geraldine  Kingman  shivered. 

“No!”  she  groaned.  “I  could  not  mistake  what  he 
has  told  me  with  his  own  lips.” 

“And  yet  you  would  marry  him?  Oh,  Jerry!” 

“It  is  because  I  believe  that  I  can  be  of  service  to 
him.  It  is  because  I  believe  that  one  day  he  will  love 
me  as  I  love  him.  It  is  because — ” 

“Do  you  really  believe  all  that,  child,  or  are  you 
striving  to  delude  yourself?” 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  then  began  to  sob  afresh.  | 

“Jerry,”  he  said,  tenderly,  “be  true  to  yourself,  my 
darling.  I  am  not  pleading  for  myself  now,  but  you. 
You  can’t  understand  what  life  will  be  to  you  if  you 
go  into  this  marriage  in  which  the  love  is  all  upon 
your  side.  It  would  be  so  much,  so  infinitely  better, 
if  it  were  but  reversed,  and  the  love  were  upon  his 
side.  There  is  that  in  a  woman’s  nature  that  will 
always  keep  her  in  the  line  of  truth  and  virtue  if  she 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


179 


be  truly  a  woman  in  its  better  sense,  but  every  man 
must  love  to  be  what  his  wife  deserves.  That  is  why 
marriage  is  so  often  a  failure.  The  love  is  so  seldom 
of  the  right  kind  on  the  part  of  the  man,  and  when 
it  is  not,  or  when  there  m  none  at  all,  God  help  them 
both!” 

“But  I  may  win  his  love.” 

“I  know  it  is  the  popular  idea  with  fictional  char¬ 
acters,  but  I  tell  you  that  it  is  not  true.  You  never  yet 
saw  the  case  in  which  the  wife  won  what  the  sweet¬ 
heart  could  not.” 

“I  will  not  believe  it!”  she  cried,  passionately.  “God 
Would  not  be  so  cruel !  It  is  not  true !  Would  you  not 
marry  me,  if  you  really  love  me  as  you  say,  and  risk 
the  coming  of  love?” 

He  hesitated  for  a  long  time.  Harry  Winter  was 
an  honest  and  conscientious  man,  and  he  wanted  to 
be  sure  that  he  was  uttering  the  truth.  He  turned  to 
the  fire  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  for  many  min¬ 
utes.  When  he  lifted  it  it  was  gray  with  passion. 

“God  help  me!”  he  exclaimed,  hoarsely;  “I  am 
afraid  that  I  would!” 

Geraldine  Kingman  leaped  to  her  feet. 

“You  would?”  she  cried,  wildly,  “and  so  shall  I{ 
I  will  marry  Ballard  Hilliard!  I  swear  it!  If  I  can 
not  win  his  love  afterward,  then  I  can  do  that  which 
we  must  all  come  to  sooner  or  later — I  can  die !  But 
I  will  be  his  wife!  There  is  nothing  that  shall  pre¬ 
vent  that!  Nothing!” 


180 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  XXIX. 


The  night  that  followed  was  one  of  unusual  h’or-S 
ror  to  Geraldine  Kingman.  She  went  to  bed  after 
Harry  Winter  had  left  her,  and  tried  to  sleep;  but  f 
that  vague,  shadowy  unrest  that  had  attacked  her 
when  she  stood  listening  at  the  door  of  the  room  that 
contained  Doctor  Winter  and  Russell  Shannon  would 
not  be  stilled.  She  tried  many  times  to  shake  it  off, 
but  it  would  not  leave  her. 

She  rose,  and  in  her  bare  feet  walked  hurriedly  up 
and  down  the  room,  thinking  to  force  sleep  through 
physical  exhaustion,  but  without  result.  A  nervous¬ 
ness  that  was  almost  like  hysteria  had  attacked  her  ;• 
but  still  she  had  never  acknowledged,  even  to  her  own 
heart,  what  it  was  she  feared — what  it  was  she 
thought. 

‘‘What  is  the  matter  with  me?”  she  asked  of  her¬ 
self  many  times,  endeavoring  to  choke  oft  the  pre¬ 
monition  that  seemed  about  to  drive  her  mad.  “What 
is  tliis  unreal  thing  with  which  I  am  torturing  myself? 

It  is  absurd,  ridiculous!  I  will  go  to  bed  and  sleep. ” 

But  in  spite  of  resolution  and  effort,  there  was  no 
sleep  for  her,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  positive 
rejoicing  that  she  saw  the  morning  break. 

“The  day!  Thank  God!”  she  muttered,  pushing 
back  the  disarranged  hair  from  her  haggard  brow. 
“Another  night  like  that  would  kill  me.  And  all  for 
what  ?” 

She  sat  for  a  moment  in  deep  reflection,  staring 
into  the  gray,  deserted  street,  then  suddenly  started 
up. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


181 


“I  must  go  home  to-day!”  she  cried,  her  teeth 
chattering  together  curiously.  “My  week  is  up,  and 
Ballard  said  that  if  I  did  not  come  home  he  would 
come  after  me.  I  must  not  allow  him  the  opportunity 
to  come  after  me;  I  must  keep  him  out  of  this  town, 
because  I  have  promised  Carroll  that  he  shall  not 
know.  Great  heavens!  how  am  I  even  to  keep  that 
promise?  Already  that  helpless  baby  has  spoiled  my 
.whole  life!  Am  I  to  go  through  existence  with  that 
secret  that  has  already  grown  to  be  a  nightmare  upon 
my  mind?  Must  I  always  preserve  it,  when  it  has 
already  grown  odious  to  me?  Oh,  God!  why  have  I 
been  forced  to  share  this  secret?  Why  could  it  not 
have  been  kept  from  me  as  well?” 

She  bowed  her  head  upon  the  sill  of  the  window 
for  a  time  and  moaned,  then  she  arose  angrily  and 
stood  there  looking  out  into  the  threatening  sky. 

“After  all,  what  have  I  to  do  with  Carroll  Mill- 
bourne  and  her  child?”  she  cried,  coldly.  “I  am  mak¬ 
ing  an  egregious  foci  of  myself!  She  is  nothing  to 
me — never  has  been,  save  the  object  of  my  charity. 
Why  should  she  come  between  me  and  my  life’s  hap¬ 
piness?  There  is  no  reason,  and  she  shall  not!  I  will 
put  this  thing  out  of  my  life.  I  will  forget  that  she 
does  not  lie  up  there  in  Woodlawn  near  the  lake, 
where  we  have  all  visited  her,  and  I  will  be  happy  in 
my  own  way.” 

Her  teeth  were  set  firmly.  There  was  an  expression 
in  her  eyes  that  did  not  indicate  any  great  degree  of 
enjoyment ;  but,  with  nerves  that  had  grown  almost 
firm  under  the  tensity  of  her  resolution,  she  began  to 
pack  her  trunk. 


>182 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


She  forgot  the  hours,  in  her  occupation,  and  was 
astonished  when  a  knock  sounded  upon  her  door.  She 
threw  it  open. 

“What  is  the  hour,  Lizette?”  she  asked  of  the 
maid. 

“Scarcely  nine,  ma’am,”  she  replied. 

“So  late?  I  had  no  idea  of  that.” 

“Mr.  Hilliard  is  here,  ma’am.” 

“Mr.  Hilliard?” 

“Yes,  ma’am.” 

Miss  Kingman  had  grown  pale.  For  a  moment  th* 
old  horror  returned  to  her,  then  a  flush  glowed  in  he£ 
cheeks. 

“Tell  him  that  I  will  be  down  at  once!”  she  ex* 
claimed. 

She  closed  the  door  and  went  swiftly  to  the  glass. 
A  crimson  spot  burned  in  either  cheek.  She  was 
tremendously  excited. 

“He  does  love  me!”  she  cried,  as  if  striving  to  con¬ 
vince  herself  of  something  she  knew  to  be  untrue. 
“He  does  love  me!  He  would  not  have  come  so 
early  else.  I  will  never  believe  anything  else  again !  I 
must  take  him  back  at  once,  in  order  to  prevent  his 
finding  out  about  her .  I  do  it  only  for  his  good.  Noth¬ 
ing  else — nothing  else!  It  would  but  make  him  mis¬ 
erable,  and  surely  we  have  both  had  enough  of  that.” 

Very  rapidly  she  had  rearranged  her  toilet,  taking 
unusual  pains  with  her  hair,  then  descended  to  the 
drawing-room,  where  her  betrothed  husband  waited. 

He  bent  and  kissed  her. 

What  was  it  in  the  act  that  sent  a  shiver  through 
all  being?  She  could  not  have  answered  definitely. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


183 


yet  a  thought  was  struggling  for  recognition  in  her 
brain.  Was  that  the  kiss  of  a  lover?  Was  that  the 
embrace  of  a  betrothed  husband?  Was  there  the 
.warmth  of  longing  in  his  caress?  Or  was  it  not 
something  that  savored  very  strongly  of  remorse,  this 
manner  of  his  ? 

«  He  had  held  her  very  closely  to  him  for  a  moment, 
but  it  was  in  such  a  position  that  she  could  not  see 
his  face.  He  had  kissed  her,  but  the  caress  contained 
none  of  the  enthusiasm  of  a  lover.  Her  very  soul 
sickened  under  it,  and  yet,  unconsciously,  she  re¬ 
solved  sternly  that  she  would  not  see. 

She  laughed  a  trifle  hysterically,  took  his  face  be-1 
tween  her  hands  and  kissed  it  of  her  own  accord. 

“ I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,”  she  cried,  striving 
to  speak  lightly.  “I  have  my  things  all  packed,  and 
we  shall  start  for  home  at  once.  It  will  seem  so  good 
to  be  back  again!” 

“Then  you  have  not  enjoyed  it?” 

“Oh,  yes!  It  would  be  ungrateful  to  say  that  I 
have  not,  would  it  not?  But  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  at 
home  again  for  all  that.  I  have  missed  you  so,  Bal¬ 
lard.” 

|  “Have  you,  dear?  I  am  glad  to  hear  that.  I  need 
fiot  tell  you  how  lonely  I  have  been.” 

“Have  you,  really?”  she  asked,  the  laughter  dying 
from  her  face,  and  a  serious  wistfulness  taking  its 
place. 

“Really?  Why,  to  be  sure,  little  woman.  Did  yoil 
think  I  should  not?  My  life  contains  very  little  else 
than  you,  you  know.  I  have  wandered  about  like  a: 
sheep  that  had  strayed  away  from  the  fold  since  you 


18 1 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


have  been  away.  Oh,  yes,  Jerry,  you  may  be  quite 
sure  that  I  was  lonely  enough  to  please  even  the  most 
exacting  woman. ” 

A  brilliant  light  was  dancing  in  her  eyes,  a  spot 
of  crimson  had  come  to  either  cheek.  She  lifted  her¬ 
self  and  kissed  him  upcrn  the  chin. 

“I  shall  never  leave  you  again,  Ballard,”  she  said, 
with  infinite  tenderness,  and  some  catch  in  the  voice 
that  suggested  the  nearness  of  tears. 

“That  is  good.  But  when  am  I  to  have  you  for 
my  own,  Jerry?”  he  asked,  gently,  but  still  painfully 
unenthusiastic.  “You  know  that  you  promised  that 
you  would  answer  me  at  the  end  of  the  week.” 

A  defiant  expression  that  he  could  not  quite  com¬ 
prehend  came  into  his  eyes.  She  lifted  her  head,  her 
lips  firmly  set,  her  breath  peculiarly  repressed. 

“I  am  ready  to  become  your  wife,  Ballard,  at  any 
time — at  any  time  that  you  may  desire  it.” 

He  hesitated  a  moment.  A  pallor  that  was  almost 
piteous  came  about  his  mouth.  He  put  up  his  hand  to 
conceal  the  trembling  of  his  lips.  His  face  had  sud¬ 
denly  grown  haggard  and  gray. 

“Thank  you  dear,”  he  said,  slowly.  “Then  we  will 
arrange  it  immediately  upon  our  return  to  New  York.” 

He  sat  down  in  a  chair,  without  an  invitation,  or 
waiting  for  her  to  be  seated.  The  room  had  grown 
strangely  dark  to  him.  He  weakly  lifted  the  hair 
from  his  brow.  He  seemed  to  feel  as  the  condemned 
wretch  does  who  has  listened  to  the  reading  of  his 
death-warrant. 

And  did  Miss  Kingman  see  it  ail?  She  would  not! 
She  closed  her  eyes  for  a  moment  to  overcome  her 
giddiness,  then  she,  too,  sat  down. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


1S5 


There  was  a  long  silence  between  them — a  most 
peculiar  silence  under  the  circumstances — then  Hill¬ 
iard  put  out  his  cold  hand  and  gently  stroked  her 
wrist. 

“When  shall  we  be  ready  to  go?”  he  asked,  trying 
to  infuse  his  voice  with  some  degree  of  interest. 

“To-day — this  very  morning!”  she  answered,  barely 
able  to  control  the  rising  hysteria  in  the  tone.  “I 
should  have  gone  away  anyway  if  you  had  not  come.” 

“Are  you  not  cutting  your  visit  a  day  or  two  short?” 

“Yes — no!  No  matter.  I  am  tired.  I  want  to  be 
at  home.  There  is  no  place  like  one’s  home,  after 
all.  Oh,  Ballard,  I  wish  to  God  I  had  not  come!  1 
wish  to  God  you  had  insisted  upon  my  remaining  that 
morning  in  the  studio  when  I  told  you  that  I  was 
going !” 

She  had  lost  her  self  control  for  the  moment,  and 
a  long  scb  struggled  through  her  lips.  Hilliard  had 
never  heard  anything  like  that  from  her  before.  He 
was  startled  into  a  forgetfulness  of  his  own  misery. 
He  took  her  hand  and  leaned  toward  her. 

“Why,  Jerry!”  he  exclaimed.  “What  is  the  matter 
with  you,  dear  ?  Why  is  it  that  you  wish  you  had  not 
come?  Has  anything  happened,  little  one?” 

|i  “No!”  she  answered,  shivering  and  pushing  back 
\he  heavy  hair  from  her  forehead.  “You  must  not 
mind  me.  I  am  nervous  this  morning,  that  is  all — I 
did  not  sleep  well  last  night,  and  my  head  aches.” 

“Then  perhaps  we  had  better  wait  over,  and  go 
to-morrow 

“No!  no!  no!  There  is  nothing  that  could  induce, 
me  to  stay  m  this  town  another  day — another  hour. 


1S3 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


I  feel  as  if  I  should  suffocate  here.  I  must  go— I 
must  or  die,  I  tell  you!  Oh;  Ballard,  Ballard,  take 
me  home !” 

f 

And,  more  astonished  than  he  had  almost  ever  been 
before  in  his  life,  Hilliard  consented. 


Chapter  XXX. 


It  was  not  a  difficult  thing  for  Miss  Kingman  to 
make  excuses  to  her  hostess  for  the  suddenness  of 
hjer  departure,  for,  while  Mrs.  Shannon  admired  and 
loved  her  guest,  she  was  never  one  to  insist  upon  pro¬ 
longing  a  visit  after  an  intention  had  been  declared 
to  bring  it  to  a  close.  Therefore,  after  a  promise  had 
been  exacted  that  it  would  be  repeated  soon,  and  a 
playful  reproof  given  to  Hilliard  for  robbing  her,  shs 
allowed  Geraldine  to  go. 

The  latter  saw  Shannon  for  a  moment  alone  before 
entering  the  carriage  to  be  driven  to  the  station. 

“For  50000058’  sake  be  careful  what  you  doi”  she 
said  to  him,  earnestly.  “Think  what  might  have  hap¬ 
pened  between  you  and  Harry  Winter  if  it  had  not 
been  for  my  interference.  Remember  how  unjust  your 
accusation  was,  and  have  a  care  for  the  future.  Will 
you  promise  me  that  you  will?” 

Shannon’s  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  floor.  His  hag¬ 
gard  face  appealed  very  strongly  to  her. 

“Yes,”  he  answered,  wearily;  “I  shall  try;  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  there  is  very  little  left  in  life.  If  I 
could  find  that  wretch  I  think  I  should  kill  him,  and 
then  I  should  take  her  away  and  make  her  forget.” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  187 

Miss  Kingman  shuddered,  the  old  pallor  that  her 
departure  had  erased,  returning. 

“ Don't  speak  like  that.  Do  you  think  there  would 
ever  be  any  happiness  for  either  of  you  after  you  had 
done  a  thing  like  that?  One  crime  does  not  wipe  out 
another.” 

“Perhaps  not.  It  is  so  absolutely  dreary  and  deso¬ 
late,  this  thing  of  living,  that,  after  all,  I  might  but 
be  doing  him  a  favor.  I  don't  think  you  understand 
how  it  is  with  me,  Jerry.  If  Carroll  had  died,  I  could 
have  borne  it  with  the  fortitude  that  a  man  should 
show;  but  I  think  this  thing  has  robbed  me  of  all  my 
courage.  I  am  not  like  myself.  I  could  have  given 
her  to  another  man  whom  she  loved,  with  all  my 
heart ;  but  to  see  her  like  this,  to  know  that  she  is  the 
accursed  of  her  sex  through  a  scoundrel  whose  iden¬ 
tity  I  can  not  discover,  maddens  me !”' 

Miss  Kingman's  lips  were  twitching  nervously.  She 
strove  to  steady  her  voice  as  she  replied : 

“Remember  that  you  can  do  her  no  good  by  hasty 
and  unconsidered  actions,  and  you  may  do  something 
that  you  will  have  cause  to  regret  all  your  life.  If 
anything  happens,  you  will  let  me  know,  will  you 
not  ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye,  and  God  bless  you!  I  suppose  we  shall 
receive  cards  to  your  wedding  shortly  ?” 

A  spasm  of  pain  contracted  the  handsome  face. 

“Yes,”  she  answered,  endeavoring  to  speak  light!}7. 

“You  ought  to  be  a  very  happy  woman  ** 

She  did  not  lift  her  eyes. 


188 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“Why?5*  she  asked. 

“Because  Ballard  Hilliard  is  a  noble  man.  He  i? 
an  ornament  to  his  sex,  and  it  should  be  the  pride  of 
your  heart  that  you  have  won  the  love  of  such  a  man.” 

Miss  Kingman  did  not  reply.  She  stood  there  in 
her  traveling-dress  picking  at  the  button  upon  her 
glove,  her  eyes  downcast,  an  expression  that  might 
also  be  translated  into  shame  upon  her  countenance. 
There  was  a  curious  silence  between  them;  then,  una¬ 
ble  to  bear  it,  she  put  out  her  hand  and  clasped  his 
closely.  Suddenly  there  seemed  a  new  bond  of  sym¬ 
pathy  established  between  them.  She  could  not  ex¬ 
actly  comprehend  it. 

“Good-bye,”  she  whispered. 

He  pressed  his  lips  upon  her  forehead. 

“Hilliard  would  not  grudge  me  that!”  he  exclaimed, 
with  a  wan  smile.  “It  is  the  kiss  of  a  brother,  you 
know,  Jerry.” 

“Yes,  I  know.  You  will  write?” 

“Yes.” 

There  was  another  pressure  of  the  hand,  warm  and 
dose,  then  she  went  back  to  Mrs.  Shannon  and  Hill¬ 
iard. 

“I  was  just  about  to  come  for  you,”  the  latter  said. 
“We  have  no  more  than  time  to  catch  the  train.  Are 
you  ready?” 

“Yes.” 

The  homeward  journey  was  fitfully  silent  and  gay, 
marked  at  one  moment  by  laughter  and  at  the  next 
by  sighs.  That  something  unusual  had  happened  to 
his  fume  dr  Ballard  Hilliard  felt  assured,  but  he  did 
not  consider  it  wise  to  question  her  upon  the  subject 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


189 


mntil  she  had  shown  an  inclination  to  take  him  into 
her  confidence.  He  therefore  humored  her  moods  in 
every  way. 

}  He  remained  to  luncheon  with  her  at  her  request, 
but  when  he  saw  that  she  was  wearied,  half  exhausted 
later,  he  left  her. 

*  “Take  an  hour's  rest,  Jerry,”  he  said,  as  he  touched 
his  lips  to  hers  at  parting.  “I  will  come  to  dine  with 
you  this  evening,  if  I  may,  and  then  we  can  arrange 
pur  future  when  you  are  feeling  more  like  yourself. 
jYour  trip  has  utterly  wearied  you.” 

She  did  not  insist  upon  his  remaining,  but  watched 
him  wistfully  as  he  got  into  his  coat,  then  handed  him 
his  hat  herself. 

“Good-bye,”  she  said,  her  lip  trembling  piteously. 
T‘I  have  such  a  strange  feeling  in  my  heart,  Ballard. 
1  wrish  you  would  put  your  arms  closely  about  me — • 
just  once,  dear.  Hold  me  tightly  and  kiss  me  while 
I. shut  my  eyes  and  try  to  fancy  that  it  is  real.” 

He  looked  at  her  curiously — hysteria  wras  so  for* 
eign  to  her  nature.  What  could  it  mean? 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  pressed  her  head  ten¬ 
derly  upon  his  shoulder. 

“What  are  you  saying,  little  one?”  he  questioned, 
gently.  “You  are  not  at  all  like  yourself.  Should 
you  have  to  shut  your  eyes  to  fancy  my  kisses  real  ?” 

She  shook  her  head  and  tried  to  smile,  but  it  was  a 
very  wintry  effort.  She  disengaged  herself  from  his 
arms  and  pushed  him  slightly  from  her.  Even  the 
palpable  fraud  that  she  had  tried  to  put  upon  herself 
was  a  failure. 

“I  am  tired,”  she  answered,  huskily.  “That  is  all. 
When  you  return  I  shall  be  quite  myself.  You  must 


190 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


think  me  very  silly,  dear,  but  I  shall  not  distress  you 
like  this  again.  Go,  now.  Be  sure  you  come  to  me 
early.  Don’t  let  anything  detain  you.  I  feel  strangely 
nervous  and — ”  t 

“Perhaps  I  had  better  not  go  at  all.” 

“Yes,  I  had  much  rather  you  would.” 

He  kissed  her  once  with  the  tenderness  of  a  brother, 
then  the  door  closed  upon  him.  a 

She  went  to  the  window  and  watched  the  tall,  manly 
form  until  it  had  disappeared,  scarcely  able  to  con- 
ti  ol  her  sobbing.  Then,  when  he  was  quite  gone,  she 
pulled  herself  up  with  a  little  shake. 

“What  fancies  are  these  to  which  I  am  giving 
way?”  she  cried  to  herself,  indignantly.  “I  might  as 
well  acknowledge  it  to  myself.  I  am  insulting  my 
betrothed  husband  with  the  vilest  suspicion  that  ever, 
entered  a  woman’s  heart.  I  think  I  should  stab  the 
person  who  dared  intimate  so  horrible  a  lie  to  me  of 
him,  and  yet,  in  my  own  heart,  I  am  doing  him  an  in¬ 
justice  that  his  worst  enemy  would  hesitate  to  put 
upon  him.  Oh,  shame — shame !” 

She  walked  quickly  up  and  down  the  floor  once  or 
twice,  then  sat  down  and  leaned  her  head  dejectedly 
upon  her  hands.  How  long  she  had  been  so  she  was 
unable  to  say,  when  one  of  the  servants  entered. 

“Mrs.  Millbourne  is  here,  Miss  Kingman,”  he  an¬ 
nounced.  “Will  you  see  her?” 

Geraldine  sprung  up.  Here  was  some  one  who 
loved  Ballard  even  as  she  did.  A  flush  sprung  to  her 
cheeks.  She  was  glad  that  Mrs.  Millbourne  had  come, 
f^r,  in  spite  of  the  secret  that  was  burning  in  her 
6reast  of  the  existence  of  Mrs.  Millbourne’s  child,  they 
could  talk  of  Ballard,  and  Mrs.  Millbourne’s  per- 


'a  little  princess  191j 

(feet  confidence  would  restore  hers.  She  was  ashamed 
of  herself  for  the  thought,  and  yet  she  hurriedly  gave 
her  servant  permission  to  show  her  friend  to  the  room. 
i  And  then  ? 

i  She  stared  back  with  a  cry  of  alarm  when  she  saw; 
the  ghastly  features,  the  disordered  appearance,  of  the 
j  woman  who  had  been  one  of  the  neatest  she  had  ever 
|  known.  She  did  not  speak,  but  stood  there  facing 
I  .Carroll’s  mother,  her  hands  pressed  upon  her  breast, 
her  breath  coming  in  little  pants, 
w  The  elder  woman  had  paused,  leaning  in  her  ex¬ 
haustion  against  the  door.  She  waited  but  a  moment, 
however,  then  closed  the  door  and  went  slowly,  in  an 
almost’  spectral  way,  up  to  the  girl  who  had  loved  her 
daughter. 

H  “I  have  come  to  tell  you  something,  Geraldine  King- 
man,”  she  said,  hoarsely.  “For  years  you  have  been 
the  best  friend  I  have  had — I  and  my  family — per¬ 
haps  the  only  one.  I  have  loved  you  next  to  my, 
own  child,  and  with  reason.  I  have  often  thought 
that  if  the  time  ever  came  when  I  had  an  opportunity 
of  doing  it,  I  would  gladly  lay  down  my  life  for  you; 
and  yet  I  am  here  today  to  strike  you  the  most  cruel 
blow  that  has  ever  come  into  your  young  life.” 

\  Still  Miss  Kingman  did  not  speak.  Her  tongue 
seemed  knit  to  the  roof  of  her  mouth.  She  was  in¬ 
capable  of  word  or  movement.  Seeing  which,  Mrs. 
SMillbourne,  continued : 

“I  have  come,”  she  said,  slowly,  “to  prove  to  you 
that  he  whom  you  love  is  the  yilest  scoundrel  that 
ever  disgraced  the  name  of  man.” 

The  color  surged  from  Miss  Kingman’s  throat  tot 
her  brow. 


192  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

“How  dare  you  say  that?”  she  exclaimed,  her  voice 
refusing  to  rise  above  a  whisper,  in  her  awful  anger. 
“How  dare  you  come  to  me  with  a  wretched  false¬ 
hood—” 

“Wait!  You  could  not  believe  in  him  more  than 
I  did.  You  could  not  trust  him  more  than  I  have 
done.  There  is  nothing  that  could  have  convinced 
rne  but  the  voice  of  the  dead,  proclaiming  his  guilt 
in  a  tone  that  would  not  be  misunderstood.  And  as 
I  have  heard,  so  also  shall  you.  There  is  the  letter. 
Read !”  > 

She  held  out  that  cruel  \hing  in  her  hand,  and 
Miss  Kmgman  stood  there,  looking  down  upon  it,  but 
not  daring  to  touch  it.  She  seemed  frozen  into  ice. 


Chapter  XXXI. 


In  her  dimly  lighted  little  room  Carroll  sat  with  her 
sleeping  child  upon  her  knee.  She  was  not  looking  at 
the  baby,  but  at  the  torn  curtain  that  shaded  the  tiny 
window. 

It  did  not  require  a  second  glance  into  the  pale, 
haggard  face  to  know  that  the  reflections  of  that 
child-woman  were  far  from  pleasant.  She  was  striv¬ 
ing  to  make  some  plan  of  future  action  without  a  ray 
of  hope  to  build  upon.  The  small  supply  of  money 
that  she  had  earned  while  with  Mrs.  Shannon  was 
almost  exhausted,  and  she  knew  that  work  must  be 
done  or  her  baby  would  starve.  Yet  what  was  there 
to  do? 

She  knew  that  with  that  little  incumbrance  &  waa 


A  LITTLE  PRIUCfiroS 


193 


ftvorse  than  useless  for  her  to  attempt  the  work  of  a 
servant;  for  even  had  she  the  strength  to  accomplish 
it,  no  one  would  employ  her,  and  she  was  trying  very 
hard  not  to  deceive  herself  in  anything. 

She  could  not  teach,  even  had  she  the  pupils,  for 
her  education  was  not  of  the  kind  that  admits  of  that. 
There  seemed  absolutely  nothing  that  she  could  do, 
look  at  it  in  whatever  light  she  would.  It  was  a 
dreary  prospect,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that 
her  faint  heart  sunk  in  hopelessness  and  dread. 

She  lifted  the  baby  and  pressed  its  tiny  face  against 
her  own.  ( 

“But  for  you,  my  darling,  I  could  face  it  bravely; 
enough,”  she  whispered,  sobbingly.  “Without  bread 
I  should  die,  and  that  would  be  the  end  of  all ;  but  I1 
can  not  see  you  suffer,  my  little  Princess.  I  shall 
move  heaven  and  earth  tomorrow  to  find  something 
for  you  and  me,  my  pretty  one.  Oh,  baby,  baby! 
what  a  bitter  world  it  has  been  for  me,  and  will  be 
for  you,  I  fear!” 

A  slow  tear  trickled  through  her  burning  eyelids 
and  fell  upon  the  small  face.  It  seemed  to  awaken 
the  infant,  and  a  low,  hoarse  wail  issued  through  the 
little  lips. 

She  tried  to  hush  it  with  a  little  lullaby  that  was 
infinitely  tender  and  soothing,  but  the  child  continued 
to  cry  fitfully,  weakly.  t 

She  turned  up  the  dim  lamp  and  looked  into  the 
little  face. 

Was  it  fancy,  or  had  there  come  a  curious  blue 
look  about  the  tiny  mouth,  a  pinched  expression  ah$ui 
the  nose? 

Her  heart  gave  a  great  bound. 


194 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


She  looKed  more  closely.  There  was  no  mistake. 
The  horrible  blue  was  spreading  rapidly.  The  little 
form  was  growing  rigid  in  her  clasp. 

A  shrill  scream  issued  from  the  lips  of  the  young 
and  inexperienced  mother,  then  another  and  another,  f 
until  without  ceremony  the  door  was  thrown  open  and  . 
several  women  rushed  into  the  room. 

“What’s  the  matter?”  they  demanded  in  chorus.  | 

“My  baby!  She  is  dying!”  Carroll  gasped,  lifting’ 
her  white,  horror-stricken  face  to  that  of  the  nearest 
woman.  “For  God’s  sake,  do  something  for  her! 
She  is  all  I  have  in  the  world  1  You  must  not  let  her; 
die!” 

“Give  her  to  me!”  cried  the  eldest  of  the  number. 
“She’s  got  a  spasm.  It’s  not  much.  Quick,  Jenny! 
Get  me  a  tub  of  hot  water — as  hot  as  you  can  get  it !” 

Even  as  she  spoke  the  woman  was  rapidly  stripping 
the  clothes  from  the  now  perfectly  rigid  little  form. 
Carroll  stood  for  a  moment  looking  on  in  stunned 
agony,  then  without  a  word,  without  hat  or  wrap,  she 
dashed  out  into  the  street. 

With  the  speed  of  the  wind  she  seemed  to  fly.  On, 
on,  never  pausing  for  breath,  she  went,  paying  no 
heed  to  the  persons  who  stopped  to  look  at  her  inf 
her  rapid  flight,  straight  to  the  hospital  where  the| 
only  friend  upon  whom  she  could  then  rely  was  to  be; 
'found.  She  dashed  by  the  man  at  the  door  before.' 
he  could  gainsay  her,  and  ran  half  exhausted  into  the 
room  of  Doctor  Winter. 

He  sprung  up  hastily  at  the  sudden  entrance. 

“Mrs.  Mills!”  he  exclaimed,  “what  in  Heaven's 
name  has  happened?” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


195 


“My  baby!”  she  gasped.  “Quick,  she  is  dying!” 
r  He  never  remembered  to  have  seen  anything  like 
the  expression  upon  Carroll’s  face  when  she  uttered 
those  words.  He  started  forward  and  placed  his  hand 
jfieavily  upon  her  shoulder. 

fj  “Calm  yourself!”  he  cried,  hastily.  “It  may  not 
I  be  so  bad  as  you  think.  What  is  the  matter  with  her, 
3and  where  have  you  left  her?” 

“At  home!  Oh,  for  God’s  sake,  come!  She  may 
be  dead  already!” 

|  “But  can’t  you  tell  me  something,  so  that  I  may 
Enow — ” 

ii  “It  is  a  spasm,  some  one  said,  but — ” 

'■  “Oh,  if  that  is  all,  there  is  not  so  much  danger, 
(Come !” 

r  He  picked  up  his  hat  and  got  into  his  coat  as  he 
was  going  toward  the  door.  His  buggy  was  at  the 
street  door,  and  he  lifted  her  into  it.  There  was  not 
a  word  spoken  on  that  rapid  homeward  drive,  but  by 
the  set  expression  of  those  haggard  eyes,  Harry  Win¬ 
ter  knew  how  Carroll  was  suffering. 

|  They  were  not  long  in  reaching  the  little  half 
tlimbled-down  house  that  Carroll  called  her  home, 
and  lifting  her  out  carefully,  he  hurried  with  her  into 
.the  room. 

%  All  that  could  have  been  done  for  the  child  had  been 
Iby  the  kind-hearted  women,  and  very  gradually  it 
~was  recovering  from  the  terrible  rigidity,  but  there 
was  an  expression  on  Harry  Winter’s  face  as  he  held 
the  little  creature  in  his  arms  that  caused  the  most 
experienced  to  shake  their  heads  and  glance  appre¬ 
hensively  at  Carroll. 


196 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


She,  however,  saw  only  that  the  child  was  better, 
and  a  great  thanksgiving  filled  her  soul.  She  had 
scarcely  realized  before  how  great  a  part  of  her  life 
that  little  child  had  become,  but  she  knew  it  all  now, 
and  tears  rolled  over  her  face  like  rain  as  the  reaction 
pf  hope  came. 

;  But  it  was  piteously  short-lived. 

The  baby  looked  at  her — she  even  fancied  it  smiled 
in  a  weak  sort  of  way — then  the  old  pinched  expres¬ 
sion  began  to  come  again.  The  wild  fear  leaped  once 
more  into  Carroll’s  heart,  but  she  neither  moved  nor 
spoke,  standing  staring  down  at  the  blue  lines  in  the 
little  face  as  if  she  had  become  petrified. 

Through  all  the  long  hours  of  the  night  Harry 
[Winter  worked  over  it  faithfully,  assisted  by  the 
good  women,  two  of  whom  remained ;  but  he  seemed 
to  know  from  the  beginning  that  it  was  a  hopeless 
endeavor.  How  patient  and  gentle  he  was!  But  it 
was  all  so  useless.  As  morning  broke,  he  rose  and 
placed  the  little  creature  upon  the  bed. 

Carrol  crept  up  closely  beside  him,  and  touched  his 
arm. 

,  “Is  she — dead?”  she  whispered,  hoarsely. 

[Winter  put  his  arms  tenderly  about  her  shoulders. 

“You  must  bear  it  bravely,  poor  little  woman,”  he 
6aid,  sorrowfully. 

She  did  not  seem  to  understand  at  first,  looking  at 
him  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way,  then  she  saw  some  one 
press  down  the  tiny  eyelids. 

Winter  was  looking  down  at  her. 

She  did  not  cry  out  or  moan,  but  a  smile  came  over 
tier  stiff  features. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


197: 


She  turned  to  the  women  present. 

“You  have  been  very  good  to  her  and  to  me,  all  of 
you,”  she  said,  with  a  calmness  that  was  oppressive, 
“and  I  thank  you  more  than  I  can  say.  But  it  is  all 
over  now.  Will  you  not  leave  me  alone  with  her?” 

Doctor  Winter  shook  her  slightly. 

“Child,”  he  said,  tenderly,  “you  must  bear  up  under 
that  as  you  should !  Remember  that  you  are  not  the 
only  childless  mother  in  the  world.  We  must  all  yield 
to  the  will  of  Heaven.  Would  you  call  her  back  from 
the  presence  of  God,  even  if  you  could?” 

She  seemed  to  be  trying  to  consider  for  a  moment, 
then  she  answered,  still  very  quietly : 

“No.  I  would  not,  even  if  I  could.” 

There  was  a  smile  upon  her  face  as  she  said  the 
words,  and  Winter  shivered. 

He  tried  to  speak  some  words  of  comfort  and  hope 
to  her,  but  she  stared  at  him  as  if  his  meaning  were 
a  blank,  answering: 

“You  must  not  think  that  I  am  grieving.  Why 
should  I  ?  She  is  at  rest  with  God.  Won't  you  leave 
me  for  just  a  little  while?” 

And  they  complied. 

When  she  was  alone  with  her  dead,  she  knelt  upon 
the  floor  and  encircled  the  little  form  with  her  arms. 

“Are  you  afraid,  my  darling,  there  in  the  darkness 
by  yourself?”  she  whispered.  “It  must  be  very  lonely 
for  you,  my  little  Princess — very  lonely.  Wait,  baby 
- — wait,  if  you  can,  but  a  little  while,  and  mamma  will 
carry  you  in  her  arms  through  the  darkness  and  the 
storm.  You  are  too  little  to  go  alone,  and  God  will 
forgive  me  now.  There  is  nothing  else  to  keep  me — • 


198 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


nothing  at  all!  Every  one  will  be  better  without  me, 
and  we  shall  be  happy  together  up  there  with  God,  my 
little  Princess.  He  has  shown  me  the  way  at  lastt 
Arid  they  thought  that  I  should  regret  it!”  - 

She  tenderly  kissed  the  child  again  and  again,  but 
without  passion,  then  arose  from  her  knees. 

There  was  neither  haste  nor  hesitation  in  her, 
manner.  The  smile  that  Harry  Winter  had  seen 
upon  her  lips  was  still  there.  -  i 

With  great  deliberation  she  opened  a  drawer  of  a: 
table  that  answered  as  bureau  and  washstand  both, 
and  took  from  it  a  small  bottle,  with  the  ominous 
skull  and  cross-bones  prominently  stamped  upon  the 
label.  She  held  it  for  a  moment  between  her  and  the 
light.  It  was  almost  full.  ' 

Once  again  she  crossed  to  the  side  of  the  baby  and 
leaned  over  to  press  her  lips  upon  those  already 
growing  cold. 

“Wait,  darling!”  she  whispered.  “Only  a  moment 
now !” 

She  took  the  stopper  from  the  bottle,  then  quietly 
lifted  it  to  her  lips. 


Chapter  XXXII. 


Geraldine  Kingman  stood  staring  at  Millh.srtt  Mill- 
bourne,  dumbly,  a  wild  horror  in  her  eye*  that  was 
indescribable.  Had  her  hideous  premonitions  so  soon 
proved  to  be  a  reality,  then? 

There  was  a  letter  in  the  woman'®  hand,  the  letter 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


199 


thax  she  knew  contained  the  truth  that  she  so  much 

beared  to  hear.  An  icy  perspiration  stood  upon  her 

brow  and  about  her  set  mouth.  What  should  she  do? 

i  And  then  the  indecision,  the  weakness  of  disbelief 

seemed  to  leave  her,  and  the  old  defiance  returned. 

,  She  would  not  listen  to  the  stories  against  this  be- 

Itrothed  husband  of  hers,  against  whom  she  had  not 
I 

ithe  right  to  hear.  She  drew  herself  up  proudly  and 
'  looked  the  suffering  woman  unflinchingly  in  the  eye. 

“I  regret  that  you  have  done  this!”  she  said,  coldly. 
“I  have  always  liked  you.  I  have  tried  in  every  way 
that  lay  in  my  power  to  make  your  life  a  happier  one. 
I  have  done  what  I  could  for  you  disinterestedly. 
There  was  no  expected  reward,  no  desire  for  one,  but 
I  did  not  expect  such  ingratitude.  Leave  my 
presence.” 

She  loathed  herself  for  her  cruelty,  her  selfishness, 
when  she  saw  the  look  of  positive  anguish  that  crossed 
Mrs.  Millbourne’s  face.  The  poor  woman  drew  back, 
her  sensitive  lip  quivered,  then  a  dogged  determination 
blanched  her  already  ghastly  face. 

“No!”  she  cried,  “I  can  not  go  until  I  have  proven 
to  you  that  what  I  have  said  is  the  truth.  You  are 
too  much  my  friend  for  me  to  allow  you  to  sacrifice 
yourself  in  any  way,  and  I  can  not  do  it,  even  if  my 
|  punishment  for  speaking  the  truth  is  that  I  am  never 
| to  see  you  again.  You  shall  hear  me!” 

®  “I  tell  you  that  I  will  not!  Do  you  think  that  I 
should  accept  your  word  in  preference  to  that  of  my 
husband  that  is  to  be?  Do  you  think  that  I  should 
allow  you  to  speak  falsely  of  him  to  me?” 

[  ul  do  not  ask  you  to  accept  my  word.  I  ask  you 


200 


A  LI  TTLE  PRINCESS 


to  accept  only  the  message  that  has  come  to  me  from 
the  dead.  I  ask  you  <,nly  to  listen  to  the  words  that 
Carroll  herself  has  spoken.” 

There  was  a  solemn! :y  about  the  tone  that  was  most 
impressive.  i 

Miss  Kingman  shivered.  For  a  moment  she  closed 
her  eyes  as  if  to  gain  strength.  Her  hand  was  half 
extended  as  if  she  would  take  the  letter,  then  dropped 
helplessly  by  her  side.  When  she  opened  her  eyes  all 
her  strength  seemed  to  have  vanished ;  but  in  its  stead 
was  a  wild  pleading  that  was  infinitely  piteous. 

“Don’t!”  she  cried,  hocrsely.  “You  don’t  know 
what  I  am  suffering.  Have  you  never  loved,  that  you 
can  come  here  to  me  with  this  cruel  story?  I  have 
tried  to  be  your  friend.  Why  could  you  not  have  let 
me  have  my  little  happiness  in  exchange?” 

Tears  came  to  Mrs.  Millboutue’s  eyes. 

“Oh,  child,  you  don’t  know  what  you  are  saying,” 
she  exclaimed,  huskily.  “You  don’t  understand  what 
the  future  would  have  brought  you.  Do  you  think  it 
\vould  have  contained  any  happiness  aiter  you  had  dis¬ 
covered,  as  you  would  have  been  forced  to  do  sooner 
or  later,  that  you  were  married  to  a  scoundrel?  Do 
you  think  there  would  have  been  any  happiness  in' 
discovering  that  the  father  of  your  children  was 
the—”  1 

“For  the  love  of  God,  hush!”  cried  Miss  Kingman, 
her  teeth  chattering  together  violently.  “Do  you  think 
I  am  not  suffering  enough  already?  What  is  this 
thing  that  you  would  show  me?  Let  me  seoW 

She  held  out  her  hand  with  an  energy  that  denied 
born  of  despair.  She  grasped  the  soiled  papW. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


201 


trembling  so  that  the  lines  were  almost  illegible,  she 
read  to  the  end,  then  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  the  face 
tff  that  agonized  mother.  It  was  quivering  with 
*hame  and  anguish. 

“Do  you  think  that  that  has  cost  me  nothing ?” 
$Irs.  Mill-bourne  asked,  in  an  almost  inaudible  voice. 
“Do  you  think  that  it  was  an  easy  thing  for  me  to 
allow  even  you  to  suspect  the  shame  that  has  come 
upon  me  ?  But  my  duty  was  crying  aloud.  The  man 
whom  you  would  marry  has  not  only  deceived  you 
but  her.  He  has  driven  her  to  her  death.  Do  you 
think  there  is  any  happiness  to  be  found  with  such  as 
he?  Do  you  not  understand  that  that  hideous  crime 
would  stand  between  you  forever  and  forever  ?  Should 
you  not  see  the  agony  of  that  betrayed  girl  every 
time  that  you  glanced  into  his  false  face?  Do  you 
not  know  that  it  would  poison  every  hour  of  your 
life  until  existence  would  become  a  curse?” 

“But  if  I  had  not  known.” 

The  voice  was  so  hoarse,  so  filled  with  anguish,  that 
even  Mrs.  Millbourne  started,  and  a  little  cry  escaped 
her. 

“Would  you  have  wished  that?”  she  asked,  with 
dull  horror.  “Do  you  think  that  God  would  allow  a 
crime  like  that  to  go  unpunished,  unavenged,  always  ? 
Do  you  believe  that  it  would  have  been  possible  for 
you  to  have  gone  ail  your  life  without  knowing,  and 
would  you  have  wished  it,  even  had  it  been  possible? 
Oh,  child,  you  do  not  know  yourself!  It  is  the  horror 
that  is  upon  you  now,  the  hideous  suffering  in  the 
death  of  your  respect  for  a  man  whom  you  have  loved. 
You  would  have  discovered  all  some  day,  and  then 
what  would  your  agony  have  been  like?” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


20: 

And  men  Geraldine  Kingman  remembered  her  sus¬ 
picions  that  were  confirmed  now.  All  those  awful 
things  that  she  had  feared  were  true.  Should  she  be 
able  to  face  the  years  with  that  bitter  knowledge  of 
her  husband’s  frightful  guilt  before  her  always?  Ij 
wonder  if  any  of  us  have  ever  confronted  a  more: 
hideous  experience?” 

She  stood  for  some  time  in  stony  silence,  unable 
to  speak  under  the  excess  of  her  most  cruel  emotion ; 
then,  with  the  letter  still  in  her  hand,  she  said, 
brokenly : 

“Will  you  leave  me  now?  There  is  nothing  more 
that  you  wish  to  tell  me,  is  there?” 

The  question  seemed  to  cut  Mrs.  Millbourne  to  the 
heart. 

“No,”  she  answered,  heavily.  “Heaven  knows,  I 
wish  I  could  have  spared  you  this !” 

“Please  don’t  say  anything  more  about  it.  You 
thought  you  were  doing  your  duty,  and  you  were.  Of 
course  I  shall  see  by  and  by  that  it  was  best ;  but  you 
will  understand  how  hard  it  is  just  now.  I  don’t  want 
to  be  cruel,  but — ” 

Her  lips  seemed  to  have  grown  too  stiff  for  her  to 
complete  her  sentence.  Mrs.  Millbourne  did  not  ap-( 
proach  a  step  nearer  to  her,  but  a  great  longing  filled 
her  eyes. 

“You  will  learn  to  forgive  me  some  day,”  she  said, 
yearningly.  “I  have  loved  you  next  to  my  own  child. 
.When  you' have  forgiven  me,  come  to  me  or  send  for 
me.  I  shall  know  no  contentment  until  you  do  so. 
Good-bye.” 

“Wait!” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


203 


Tiie  exclamation  seemed  to  come  mechanically, 
then  Miss  Kingman  paused  to  recollect  what  she  had 
desired  to  say.  Memory  seemed  to  return,  after  an 
uncomfortable  pause. 

"I  wanted  to  ask  you,”  she  said,  slowly,  “to  remain 
at  home  until  you  hear  from  me.  I  don’t  know  what 
I  shall  wrant  to  say  to  you,  but  I  should  like  to  know, 
that  you  will  be  there  wThen  I  come.” 

J  “I  shall  be  there.” 

“Forgive  me  if  I  have  hurt  you.” 

“Ah!  it  is  I  who  should  ask  forgiveness,  for  it  is 
I  who  have  brought  the  pain.” 

“Never  mind.  We  shall  both  understand  it  all 
better  the  next  time  we  meet.  I  am  very  wrong,  but 
•  I  have  not  meant  to  be  cruel.  Good-bye.” 

She  did  not  offer  her  hand.  There  were  many 
things  that  Mrs.  Millbourne  would  have  liked  to  have 
said,  but  her  tongue  seemed  tied  in  face  of  the  suffer¬ 
ing  that  she  but  too  readily  read  in  that  noble 
countenance. 

“God  bless  and  comfort  you!”  she  whispered,  then 
turned  and  walked  unsteadily  from  the  room. 

The  fire  upon  the  hearth  was  growing  low. 
Mechanically  Miss  Kingman  walked  over  to  it,  and, 
taking  the  brass  poker  from  its  rack,  stirred  the 
embers  to  a  blaze.  She  sat  down  upon  the  rug  where 
the  warmth  might  reach  her,  but  the  very  blood  in  her 
veins  seemed  stagnated. 

Under  the  awful  suffering  that  was  paralyzing  her 
she  was  trying  to  see  her  duty  through  inclination; 
but  she  was  too  honest  a  woman  to  deceive  herself. 

She  loved  Hilliard — had  loved  him  ail  her  life  with 
the  entire  strength  of  a  powerful  nature — and  she  had 


204 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


never  perhaps  loved  him  before  as  she  did  at  that 
moment  It  is  the  pitiful  contradiction  of  the  human 
heart  that  it  loves  most  that  which  it  can  not  possess* 
and  her  yearning  was  exquisite  agony. 

“What  shall  I  do?”  she  whispered  again  and  again, 
without  finding  an  answer  to  her  own  query — “what 
shall  I  do?” 

Then  there  was  a  long  period  of  silence  in  which 
the  torture  seemed  too  great  even  to  admit  of  thought. 
All  the  daylight  had  died  away,  and  only  the  very  fit¬ 
ful  glow  of  the  fire  fell  upon  her,  making  the  scene 
weird  and  spectral.  Her  face  was  bowed  upon  her 
knee,  and  then,  with  it  buried  there,  a  wild  cry  went 
up  from  her  heart 

“Oh,  my  darling,”  she  moaned,  “I  can  not — can  not 
give  you  up !” 

There  was  an  oppressive  silence  after  that,  broken 
at  last  by  a  light  footfall  in  the  hall,  and  an  instant 
afterward  the  portiere  was  lifted,  and  Ballard  Hilliard 
stood  there  in  the  comparative  darkness. 


Chx\pter  XXXIII. 


Ballard  Hilliard  had  called  Miss  Kingman’s  name 
twice,  and  still  she  had  not  heard.  Fearing  he  dared 
not  think  what,  he  stooped  over  and  lifted  her  in  his 
arms.  She  uttered  a  feeble  cry  and  shrunk  away, 
but  he  placed  her  in  a  chair  and  knelt  beside  her.  He 
would  scarcely  have  recognized  the  drawn,  haggard 
countenance  that  faced  him. 

Fie  looked  at  her  for  seme  moments  in  stunned 
silence,  then  exclaimed; 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


205 


wGood  heavens,  Jerry!  what  is  it  that  has  happened 
to  you?  Why  have  you  deceived  me?  .Why  have 
you  told  me  that  there  was  nothing  distressing  you, 
and  then  allow  me  to  return  and  find  you  like  this? 
ISpeak  to  me,  dear,  and  tell  me  this  dreadful  thing.” 

Could  she  doubt  the  earnestness  of  that  handsome 
face?  She  groaned  aloud  as  the  memory  of  all  she 
had  suffered  and  was  to  suffer  still  came  to  her.  She 
covered  her  eyes  with  her  trembling  hands  and  did 
not  reply. 

i  “Jerry,”  Hilliard  cried,  “you  are  driving  me  half 
mad !  Is  it  that  you  do  not  trust  me  that  you  refuse 
to  speak  ?  At  least  answer  something !”  < 

i  “What  is  there  to  say?”  she  asked,  her  voice  un¬ 
recognizably  hoarse ;  “and  how  shall  I  say  it?  Ballard, 
I  have  seen  Mrs.  Millbourne!” 

She  spoke  those  last  words  in  an  awful  whisper, 
and  was  startled  at  his  wondering  reply. 

“Well?” 

“Is  not  that  enough?” 

“Enough  for  what?” 

“Is  it  possible  that  you  don’t  know?  Or  are  you 
(Trying  to  deceive  me  further?” 

“I  don’t  in  the  very  least  understand  you.  .When 
did  you  see  Mrs.  Millbourne?” 

I  “Now — today.” 

“And  what  did  she  tell  you?” 

“Everything.” 

“But  what  is  everything?  You  are  speaking  in 
enigmas  to  me,  Jerry.  I  see  you  in  this  terrible  state 
of  excitement  and  grief,  and  the  only  explanation 
that  you  have  to  make  to  me  is  that  Mrs.  Millbourne 
has  been  here  and  told  you  everything.  I  am  as 


206 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


much  in  the  dark  as  before.  Can  you  teli  me  nothing 
further?" 

She  was  sitting  bolt  upright  in  the  chair  in  which, 
he  had  placed  her,  gazing  through  the  faint  light 
into  his  face  with  a  strained  look  that  was  painful. 

“Let  me  look  at  you !"  she  cried,  heavily.  “Let  me 
look  straight  into  your  eyes,  Ballard,  and  see  if  the 
man  whom  I  have  almost  worshipped  is  capable  of 
such  deception  as  that !  Let  me — " 

“Jerry,  what  is  it  that  you  are  saying?"  cried  Hill¬ 
iard,  haughtily.  “In  what  have  I  ever  deceived  you? 
iWhat  is  it  that  you  mean?" 

She  lifted  herself  half  off  the  chair  and  peered  into 
ills  face  weirdly. 

“Ask  yourself,"  she  whispered.  “Look  back  over 
all  your  life  and  see  if  there  is  not  something  in  which 
you  have  deceived  me.  Think,  Ballard!" 

He  flushed  to  the  very  roots  of  his  hair,  and  she 
was  not  slow  to  see  it,  even  in  that  dim  light. 

“I  told  you  of  the  one  time  in  ail  my  life  in  which 
I  deceived  you — or,  rather,  as  much  of  it  as  you 
.would  allow  me  to  tell,"  he  stammered.  “But  Mrs. 
[Melbourne  knows  nothing  of  that.  It  is  a  subject 
that  has  never  been  mentioned  between  us." 

Miss  Kingman  had  fallen  back  in  her  chair.  She 
remembered  then  that  she  had  in  reality  forbidden 
him  to  speak  to  her  upon  that  subject.  Was  it  so 
much  his  fault,  then?  What  was  she  to  think?  How 
was  she  to  act?  She  moistened  her  parched  Ups,  and 
endeavored  to  nerve  herself  to  the  hardest  ordeal  that 
she  had  ever  been  called  upon  to  endure.  Then* 
before  she  began,  she  arose  and  rang  for  lights. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


20 7] 


Hilliard  had  never  seen  her  like  that  before,  but 
the  change  awed  him*  He  watched  her  in  silence 
until  she  sat  down  before  him  again,  and  he  knew 
that  the  subject  was  opened. 

“Ballard,”  she  said,  slowly,  “I  see  now  that  I  was 
wrong.  I  see  that  there  should  be  no  unexplained 
circumstances  in  the  lives  of  those  that  expect  to  pass 
through  years  in  the  closest  companionship  that  God 
allows  to  mortals.  But  it  is  not  too  late,  and  I  am 
ready  to  listen  to  you.  Will  you  tell  me  all  the  truth?” 

He  was  speechless  for  a  moment,  striving  to  decide 
in  his  own  mind  what  had  brought  all  this  about; 
but,  unable  to  discover  any  reason,  he  sat  down  and 
drew  his  chair  opposite  to  hers.  His  countenance 
was  contracted  with  pain. 

“You  mean  the  story  of  my — association  with 
Carroll  Melbourne?”  he  asked,  heavily. 

“Yes.” 

“I  hoped  that  subject  was  buried  between  us  for¬ 
ever,”  he  said,  wearily;  “but  it  must  be  as  you  will. 
The  greatest  sorrow  of  my  life  surrounds  that  time. 
I  have  not  endeavored  to  conceal  that  fact  from  you. 
Is  it  your  wish  that  I  should  begin  at  the  beginning 
and  tell  you  a  connected  story?” 

“Yes.” 

It  seemed  that  she  was  unable  to  utter  more  than 
the  monosyllable,  and  that  in  the  shortest  of  gasps. 
Hilliard  looked  at  her  closely,  then  with  eyes  still 
fixed  upon  her  face  he  began,  speaking  slowly,  and 
striving  after  a  calmness  that  cut  her  to  the  soul. 
For  the  first  time  she  seemed  really  to  realize  what 
Carroll  had  been  to  him.  He  apparently  forgot  the 


•208 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


presence  of  his  promised  wife  as  he  proceeded  with 
the  story,  but  rambled  on  as  if  he  were  living  in  that 
past  that  had  been  so  unspeakably  sweet  to  him.  He 
went  on  to  the  day  when  he  had  heard  of  her  last,  and 
as  he  concluded  his  head  dropped  upon  his  hands  and 
an  awful  groan  escaped  him.  He  was  suffering  again 
as  he  had  suffered  in  those  days  that  were  gone,  and 
she  knew  it.  She  watched  him  in  silence  for  some 
time,  the  sobs  in  her  throat  almost  strangling  her.  Of 
all  the  grief  that  her  life  had  ever  known  that  moment 
held  the  greatest.  But  it  mastered  her. 

She  rose  at  last  and  placed  her  hand  upon  his 
shoulder. 

“Ballard,”  she  said,  gently,  “have  you  told  me — • 
everything?  Is  there  nothing  more  to  add?” 

He  lifted  his  face,  distorted  with  agony. 

“I  have  told  you  all  that  I  can,”  he  answered, 
hoarsely. 

“Why  can  you  tell  me  nothing  further?” 

“I  can  not  answer.” 

“Then  let  me  answer  for  you.  Read  that  letter.” 

She  placed  the  letter  in  his  hands  and  went  to  the 
other  end  of  the  room,  while  he  read.  She  was  trying 
to  think  what  she  ought  to  do,  trying  to  subdue  the! 
ghastly  pain  at  her  heart  but  it  was  a  useless  endeavor. ; 
She  returned  and  stood  like  a  statue  with  her  hand 
upon  the  back  of  his  chair. 

He  lifted  his  ashen  face. 

“Well?”  he  said,  hoarsely. 

“Is  that  true,  Ballard?” 

“Yes.” 

There  was  a  long  silence.  She  did  not  know  how 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


209 


foolishly  she  had  hoped  until  then.  A  low  cry,  quickly 
suppressed,  like  that  which  follows  a  stab  of  pain, 
fell  from  her  lips.  Then  the  calmness  of  death  came 
over  her. 

“Why  did  you  not  tell  me?55 

“Do  you  think  that  I  ever  should?”  he  inquired, 
hoarsely. 

“But  you  meant  to  make  her  your  wife?” 

“Before  Heaven — yes!” 

“Did  you — did  you  ever  suspect  the  reason  why 
— she  went  away,  Ballard?” 

“It  was  because  she  knew  that  I  would  never  give 
her  up,  and  because  she  was  determined  that  she 
would  not  come  between  you  and  me.” 

A  spasm  contracted  Miss  Kingman's  face.  How; 
much  more  noble,  more  self-sacrificing  that  child  had 
been  than  she!  She  wanted  to  do  everything  then 
to  make  up  for  even  the  wrong  of  a  momentary  intern 
tion.  She  bent  forward  eagerly. 

“But  could  you  see  no  other  reason?” 

“No.” 

“Think,  think,  Ballard!” 

He  started  up  with  a  low  cry  of  horror. 

“You  don't  mean — ” 

“Yes  I  do — yes!” 

“Good  God!” 

She  never  forgot  the  expression  of  his  countenance 
then.  There  was  almost  insanity  in  it.  She  went  up; 
and  soothingly  placed  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

“You  must  not  excite  yourself  so!”  she  cried. 
“You  must — ” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


210 

But  apparently  he  had  not  heard  her. 

“What  a  scoundrel  I  have  been  1”  he  gasped.  “God 
In  heaven  1  what  punishment  do  I  not  deserve  for  the 
Sorrow  and  shame  that  I  brought  into  that  poor  child’s 
life !  I  am  more  her  murderer  than  if  I  hkd  struck  the| 
blow  that  placed  her  in  her  coffin!  Oh,  Carroll!' 
Carroll !” 

She  had  never  heard  such  grief  expressed  in  the 
mere  calling  of  a  name.  He  concealed  his  face  and 
Sobbed  horribly. 

“Ballard!”  she  cried,  heavily,  “don’t  do  that!  It 
is  not  quite  so  bad  as  you  think.  I  can  not  tell  you 
yet,  but —  Come  away  with  me  now,  tonight.  There 
is  something  that  must  be  done  at  once.  I  can  not 
itell  you  yet,  but — ” 

Her  manner  startled  him  even  out  of  his  terrible 
paroxysm  of  grief.  He  turned  and  caught  her  by  the 
shoulders. 

“What  is  it  that  you  mean?”  he  cried.  “For 
[Heaven’s  sake,  speak  quickly !  I  am  almost  mad !” 

She  hesitated.  She  did  not  know  how  much  she 
ought  to  tell  him  just  then. 

“Come  with  me  to  Philadelphia  tonight,”  she  said,; 
pleadingly. 

“For  what?”  j 

“Don’t  ask  me.  I  can  not  tell  you  now,  but  you 
shall  know  tomorrow.” 

“I  must  know  now — now!” 

“Then —  Be  quiet,  Ballard.  You  are  trembling  so, 
dear.” 

“But—” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


211 


I 


i 

t 

] 


AI  think — mind  you,  Ballard,  I  don’t  say  anything 
except  that  I  think — but  it  may  be  that  I  have  seen 
■*— your  child !” 


Chapter  XXXIV. 


It  was  with  a  heavy  heart  that  Harry  Winter  left 
Carroll  alone  in  that  room  with  her  dead  baby. 

“Poor  child !”  he  muttered.  “There  is  little  enough 
that  any  of  can  do  for  her  now.  She  may  have  erred, 
but  there  was  never  a  woman  who  has  been  more 
cruelly  punished.  I  never  saw  a  purer  or  more  inno¬ 
cent  face.  I  am  quite  convinced  that  there  has  been 
some  horrible  mistake.  I  don’t  believe  that  she  is 
guilty  of  the  wrong  that  is  ascribed  to  her.  And  how 
she  suffers !  She  needs  the  tender  sympathy  of  a 
woman.  It  is  only  a  woman  who  would  know  how 
to  speak  the  words  that  she  needs  to  hear.  But  who 
is  to  speak  them?  If  Miss  Kingman  were  only — 
Why  not  send  for. her?  She  is  only  a  little  way  off. 
jl  shall  go  for  her  myself.  It  can  do  no  harm.  She 
is  so  gentle,  so  tender,  so  womanly.  I  wonder  that 
I  did  not  think  of  it  long  ago.  I  shall  go  at  once,  early 
as  it  is.” 

}  To  think  with  Doctor  Winter  was  to  act.  He  took 
his  hat  and  crushed  it  down  over  his  eyes,  then  walked 
hastily  down  the  street.  I-Ie  paused  before  the  hand¬ 
some  residence,  and  mounting  the  stoop,  pulled  the 

bell. 


212 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


The  servants  were  just  beginning  to  move  silently 
through  the  great  house.  One  answered  the  summons. 

“I  want  to  see  Miss  Kingman,”  exclaimed  Doctor 
[Winter,  who  was  known  to  the  girl.  “Don’t  disturb 
any  one  else  in  the  house,  but  tell  her —  Wait — I 
will  write  a  line  upon  my  card.” 

.  He  selected  a  card,  then  scribbled  upon  it: 

“Will  you  come  with  me  to  see  our  little  friend? 
She  is  in  great  distress  and  needs  you.  Will  explain 
when  I  see  you,  but  don’t  lose  any  time.” 

,  The  girl  took  it. 

Miss  Kingman  had  left  New  York  the  night  before 
with  Ballard  Hilliard,  but  not  considering  it  either 
advisable  or  prudent  to  go  to  the  hotel,  had  gone  to 
the  home  of  her  friends.  She  sprung  out  of  bed 
when  she  had  read  the  note  that  the  servant  had 
aroused  her  to  deliver,  and  dressed  herself  hurriedly 
!for  the  street.  She  did  not  pause  to  greet  Doctor 
Winter  when  she  joined  him,  but  asked : 

“What  is  the  matter?  What  has  happened?” 

“The  child  is  dead!” 

“Dead!”  she  gasped.  “When?” 

“A  few  minutes  ago,  of  spasms.  That  poor  child 
■— I  scarcely  know  what  to  think  of  her.  I  have  never 
seen  any  one  in  such  a  state.  She  needs  some  woman 
friend,  and  I  thought  of  you.” 

Miss  Kingman  did  not  reply.  She  had  quite  re¬ 
covered  herself,  and  hurried  almost  into  a  run  down 
the  street.  Her  thoughts  were  busy,  but  not  a  w'ord 
did  she  speak  upon  that  quick  walk. 

“Is  she  in  here?”  she  asked,  as  she  paused  bef^e 
the  door  that  she  knew  led  to  Carroll’s  room. 

“Ye«.” 


A  (LITTLE  PRINCESS  213 

She  did  not  knock  for  admission,  but  opened  it 
Softly  and  entered. 

A  hoarse  cry  escaped  her  as  the  tableau  met  her  eye. 

The  baby  lay  upon  the  bed,  and  by  its  side  stood  the 
frantic  mother,  with  a  half  smile  upon  her  lips,  and 
that  fatal  bottle  clasped  in  her  hands.  She  had  not 
heard  the  opening  of  the  door,  and  lifted  it  to  her  lips 
as  Geraldine  Kingman  entered. 

With  a  single  bound  Miss  Kingman  had  reached 
her.  She  caught  the  hand  that  would  have  taken  life, 
and  the  bottle  fell  to  the  door,  smashing  at  Carroll’s 
feet. 

She  looked  from  the  spilled  liquid  to  Miss  King¬ 
man’s  face  almost  vacantty. 

“ See  what  you  have  done!”  she  said,  dully.  “It  is 
all  gone  now,  and  my  little  Princess  can  not  wait  much 
longer.” 

“What  would  you  do?”  gasped  Miss  Kingman. 
“Do  you  not  know — ” 

She  could  not  finish  her  sentence  for  the  horror 
that  was  upon  her.  Carroll  moaned. 

“What  shall  I  do?”  she  asked,  helplessly.  “What 
shall  I  do?  Oh,  why  did  you  come?  Why  did  you?” 

Miss  Kingman  took  the  little  figure  in  her  arms 
and  held  her  closely  as  if  she  were  a  tiny,  grieving 
child.  All  the  nobility  of  her  great  nature  was  re¬ 
stored.  She  felt  that  she  could  never  do  enough  to 
show  her  appreciation  for  the  great  sacrifice  that  girl 
had  made  for  her.  Pier  life  would  have  seemed  a 
small  recompense  at  that  moment. 

“My  darling!”  she  whispered,  “what  was  it  that 
you  intended  to  do?  Don’t  you  know  that  that  was 


2K 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


wicked  ?  Don’t  you  know  that  God  would  have 
punished  you  through  all  eternity  for  taking  that 
which  is  His  ?  Don’t  you  know  that  you  would  never 
have  seen  the  face  of  your  little  one  in  the  life  that 
is  to  come?  Is  it  not  better  to  wait  for  a  time,  in 
order  that  you  may  be  rejoined  in  that  new  life  in 
which,  there  is  no  death  and  no  separation?” 

Carroll  drew  back  and  gazed  at  her  in  silence  for 
a  time,  then  burst  into  tears.  Miss  Kingman  let  her 
weep  without  reproof  until  her  tears  had  ceased  to 
flow. 

“It  is  so  hard!”  she  moaned — “so  hard!  What  is 
there  in  life  to  live  for?  How  can  I  face  all  the  dread¬ 
ful  years  of  torture  alone?” 

“But  you  will  not  face  it  alone,  my  darling,”  said 
Miss  Kingman,  tenderly.  “There  is  one  who  loves 
you — who  is  waiting  even  now  to  ask  your  forgive¬ 
ness  for  the  great  wrong  that  he  has  done  you.  Do 
you  think  there  will  be  no  happiness  for  you,  Carroll, 
in  being  Ballard  Hilliard’s  wife?” 

The  haggard  eyes  were  lifted.  There  was  a  moment 
of  painful  silence,  then  Carroll  whispered: 

“  What  is  it  that  you  mean  ?” 

“That  you  are  to  be  happy,  my  dearest,  in  spite  off 
all  your  suffering.  Ballard  does  not  know  yet  that  | 
you  live  ;  but  he  is  here  in  this  town  waiting  for  me 
to  bring  him  to  you — waiting  to  see  his  child.” 

Carroll  shuddered. 

“But  you  will  not  tell  him!  Remember  that  I 
hold  your  promise  to  tell  no  one — no  one  at  all !” 

“Would  you  keep  a  father  from  the  sight  of  his 
dead  child?” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


215 


Carroll  drew  back. 

“What  do  you  mean?”  she  whispered,  hoarsely. 

“That  I  know  all — all  the  generous,  noble  sacrifice 
that  you  have  made  for  me,  and  all  the  suffering  that 
2  have  caused  you,  my  darling!  Oh,  Carroll,  could 
you  not  have  understood  that  nothing  under  heaven 
:  could  have  induced  me  to  come  between  you  and  the 
man  who  loved  you?  You  will  be  Ballard s  wife 
now,  and — ” 

1  “No,  no,  no!  You  don’t  understand!  I  never 
Could  do  that — never!” 

"Why  not?” 

“Can’t  you  see?  You  have  been  the  best  tire  only 
friend  we  have  ever  known.  Do  you  think  that  I 
would  rob  you  of  the  man  wThom  you  love?  Do  you 
think  I  would  take  from  you  the  man  who  tor  years 
has  been  your  promised  husband?” 

“Not  when  you  know  that  I  never  shall  be  his 
wife  ?” 

“Not  even  then,  because  you  love  him!” 

There  was  a  resolution  in  the  sad  voice  time  Miss 
Kingman  knew  could,  not  be  shaken;  but  now  that 
the  two  women  had  entered  upon  a  contest  of  self- 
sacrifice  Miss  Kingman  determined  that  nothing 
should  stand  between  her  and  the  end  that  she  had 
in  view.  She  felt  that  to  see  Ballard  Hiliiard  and 
.Carroll  happy  would  in  some  measure  expiate  the  sin 
that  she  had  committed  in  thought  if  not  in  reality— 
the  sin  of  separating  those  two  who  loved  each  other, 
and  all  her  nature  was  aroused  in  the  endeavor. 

There  was  an  anguish  in  the  white  face  that  Carroll 
Was  too  heart-broken  to  see,  but  the  voice  was  almost 
steady  as  she  said,  softly: 


216 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


“But  suppose  that  I  should  tell  you  that  I  do  not 
love  him?” 

“I  would  not  believe  you,”  she  said,  quiveringly. 

“But  suppose  I  could  prove  it  to  you?” 

“You  could  not  do  that,”  she  said,  miserably.  “Oh, 
iMiss  Kingman!  if  you  have  any  pity,  don't  torture 
me !” 

“Do  you  know  me  so  little  that  you  think  I  could? 
1  am  going  to  prove  to  you  that — Ballard  Hilliard  is 
— nothing  to  me !” 

What  it  cost  her  to  utter  those  words  no  one  ever 
knew,  but  they  were  spoken  quietly,  almost  cheerfully. 

“How?”  whispered  Carroll. 

“By  showing  you  the  gentleman  whose  wife  I  have 
promised  to  be.” 

There  was  a  certain  rigidity  about  the  white  lips 
that  gave  evidence  of  the  woman’s  agony;  but  even 
that  passed  away  as  she  opened  the  door  and  signaled 
Harry  Winter,  who  still  stood  without,  to  enter. 

He  came  at  her  silent  cal!,  and  going  forward,  placed 
his  hand  upon  Carroll’s  head.  She  gazed  from  one 
to  the  other  in  bewilderment. 

“This  is  the  gentleman  of  whom  I  was  speaking,” 
said  Miss  Kingman,  with  an  imploring  glance  in 
Winter’s*  direction.  “Doctor  Winter,  will  you  not 
assure  Carroll  that  I  am  your  betrothed  wife?” 

The  look  of  astonishment  upon  Winter’s  coun¬ 
tenance  gave  place  to  one  of  deep  pain.  The  eyes  of 
both  women  were  upon  him,  the  one  in  mute,  terribly 
agitated  inquiry,  the  other  in  pleading  that  he  could 
not  comprehend.  What  was  he  to  say?  His  lips 
grew  white  as  death  as  he  replied: 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS  21 7[ 

“If  it  is  your  desire  that  I  should  do  so,  then  I  am 
ready.” 

Miss  Kingman  swayed  for  a  moment,  but  recovered 
herself  before  Winter  had  reached  her  side.  She 
smiled  at  him,  but  it  was  piteously  weak.  Then  they 
both  turned  to  Carroll,  who  had  slipped  from  her 
chair  and  lay  there  upon  the  bare  floor  with  a 
strangely  white  face. 

“She  has  fainted!”  exclaimed  the  doctor,  as  he 
lifted  her  up  in  his  arms  and  placed  her  upon  the  bed 
beside  the  dead  infant. 

“We  must  remove  it  before  she  recovers  conscious¬ 
ness,”  said  Miss  Kingman,  gently.  “Poor,  suffering, 
noble  child!  How  we  have  all  wronged  her!  There 
is  a  message  that  must  be  sent  at  once.  Will  you  see 
that  it  is  delivered  ?” 

“Yes.” 

“May  I  have  a  leaf  from  your  note-book?” 

He  gave  her  a  prescription  blank  and  a  pencil,  and 
she  scribbled: 

“Dear  Ballard, — Come  at  once  with  messenger. 
Be  prepared  for  a  terrible  shock.  A  great  sorrow  and 
a  greater  joy  av/aits  you.  Don’t  delay. 

“Geraldine.” 

With  trembling  hands  she  confided  it  to  Doctor 
Winter,  after  holding  it  up  for  his  inspection.  He 
could  not  comprehend  the  situation,  but  he  knew 
that  it  would  be  explained  to  him  in  time,  and,  leaving 
her  there  to  await  him,  he  went  from  the  room  with 
the  message. 


218 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Chapter  XXXV. 


Early  as  it  was  when  the  messenger  sent  by  Harry 
jWinter  to  Ballard  Hilliard’s  hotel  arrived,  the  latter 
Was  already  dressed,  and  was  endeavoring  to  swallow 
a  few  morsels  that  had  been  set  before  him  for 
breakfast. 

!  The  mysterious  conduct  of  Geraldine  Kingman 
the  night  before  had  prevented  his  sleeping.  She  had 
explained  nothing ;  but  he  would  have  been  more  than 
obtuse  not  to  have  seen  that  there  was  something  much 
beyond  the  ordinary  in  her  concealed  meaning.  He 
scarcely  dared  attempt  to  guess  what  it  all  meant, 
and  yet  his  heart  told  him  that  some  great  change  had 
come  into  his  life.  Every  sort  of  theory  that  the 
'fanciful  brain  of  man  could  invent  he  had  considered 
as  the  explanation  of  her  conduct,  but  each  was  as 
promptly  rejected  as  conceived. 

“I  am  allowing  myself  to  hope  for  too  much,”  he 
told  himself  again  and  again,  striving  to  curb  his  own 
eagerness.  “The  reaction  will  be  so  great  that  it  can 
not  be  endured  when  I  find  how  I  have  really  per¬ 
mitted  my  imagination  to  run  riot  over  reason. 
Women  are  all  sensational.  Poor  Jerry!  How  she 
has  suffered  through  me !  Ah,  God !  What  happiness 
do  I  deserve?  What  grief  have  I  not  brought  upon 
the  two  women  that  I  would  have  given  my  life  to 
protect  from  harm?  How  noble  and  generous  they 
both  have  been,  and  how  little  I  have  deserved  the 
love  of  either.” 

He  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand  and  groaned  as 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


213 


he  looked  down  into  his  plate.  He  felt  that  he  could 
not  bear  the  uncertainty  much  longer,  that  he  must 
demand  some  explanation  from  her,  let  the  hour  be 
what  it  might.  He  was  rising  from  the  breakfast- 
table  with  that  determination  well  defined,  when  the 
messenger  addressed  him. 

“You  are  Mr.  Ballard  Hilliard ?” 

“I  am.” 

“There  is  a  letter,  and  I  am  to  take  you  with  me 
as  an  answer.” 

There  was  no  envelope  upon  it,  and  very  hastily 
Hilliard  cast  his  eye  over  the  contents.  A  vivid  flush 
arose  to  his  brow,  followed  suddenly  by  a  pallor  that 
was  alarming.  What  could  it  be  that  she  meant?  he 
asked  himself.  He  did  not  pause  to  answer  his  own 
query,  but  hurried  after  the  messenger. 

“Is  it  far?”  he  asked. 

“  ’Bout  half  a  mile.” 

There  was  a  coupe  standing  at  the  door  of  the 
hotel.  Hilliard  sprung  in. 

“Give  the  order  to  the  coachman,”  he  cried  to 
the  boy,  “and  tell  him  to  drive  fast  for  double 
money !” 

The  boy  obeyed,  then  sprung  in  and  closed  the  door. 

Under  the  tempting  promise,  the  driver  was  not 
many  minutes  in  reaching  the  address  that  had  been 
given,  and  wondering  greatly  at  the  poverty  of  the 
surroundings  to  which  Miss  Kingman  had  summoned 
him,  Hilliard  leaped  to  the  ground,  and,  ordering  the 
^oachman  to  wait,  ran  up  the  few  steps. 

The  door  was  opened  by  Miss  Kingman  herself. 

^Ter  face  was  very  pafe,  but  there  was  a  smile  in  her 


220 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


eyes  for  all  that  which  reassured  him.  He  caught  her 
hand  and  pressed  it  with  a  force  of  which  he  was 
unaware. 

“For  God's  sake,  Jerry,  don't  keep  me  in  sus-? 
pense!”  he  exclaimed,  huskily.  “Tell  me  what  is  it 
you  mean,  and  what  has  happened  ?” 

“But  you  must  be  calm  first, ”  cried  Miss  Kingman, 
her  own  voice  trembling  between  a  hysterical  laugh  j 
and  cry.  “Everything  depends  upon  your  calmness.”  1 

“Don't,  don't!  The  suspense  is  maddening!” 

“But  it  is  for  her  sake,  Ballard!” 

“Hers?  Whose?” 

“Carroll's!” 

He  staggered  against  the  door.  For  a  moment  the 
frightful  pallor  of  his  face  alarmed  her,  but  the  next 
a  wild  joy  had  illumined  his  eyes  such  as  she  had 
never  seen  expressed  by  any  countenance. 

“Carroll!”  he  whispered.  “You  could  not  be  cruel 
enough  to  deceive  me  like  that !  Explain  to  me  quick¬ 
ly,  for  the  love  of  Heaven !” 

A  faintness,  a  giddiness  oppressed  Miss  Kingman's 
heart,  but  it  was  but  momentary;  then  all  the  old 
generous  self-sacrifice  returned.  She  put  up  her  hand 
and  touched  his  cheek  caressingly. 

“She  is  not  dead,  Ballard,  as  we  all  thought,”  she 
said,  gently.  “There  was — a — a  secret  that  she  con¬ 
cealed  even  from  you !  It  is  a  very  sad  time  for  Car- 
roll,  dear,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  knows  of  the 
happiness  that  is  in  store  for  her,  because — you  must 
be  very  brave  for  her  sake,  Ballard,  for  Carroll  has 
suffered  even  more  than  you  think.  Her — child  is — 
dead !” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


221 


He  did  not  speak.  His  pallid  lips  seemed  incapable 
of  articulation.  He  stood  there  staring  at  her  help¬ 
lessly  for  a  long  time,  then  in  a  dull,  stupid  sort  of 
way  he  said,  almost  quietly : 
j1  “Take  me  to  her.” 

)  She  turned  away  and  opened  the  door.  Then  she 
closed  it  again  behind  him,  and  he  was  alone  with 
the  woman  who  had  been  the  one  love  of  his  life. 

She  was  lying  upon  the  bed  with  her  head  propped 
up  with  pillows,  her  great  hollow,  haggard  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  door.  That  same  bleak  despair  that  had 
characterized  her  expression  v7as  still  there;  but  as 
she  recognized  the  figure  that  had  come  through  the 
door  she  tried  to  raise  herself.  The  effort  was  too 
great.  She  flung  out  her  arms,  the  low  gasping  cry 
reaching  only  him,  and  the  next  moment  she  was  in 
his  arms,  pressed  closely  to  his  madly  beating  heart. 

There  were  no  vrords  between  them.  They  were 
both  weeping,  their  tears  mingling  as  their  lips  met 
and  clung  together.  Then  wrhen  their  agitation  had 
been  somewhat  controlled,  Hilliard  whispered, 
brokenly : 

“My  love,  my  wife,  how  we  have  both  suffered!” 

“God  never  yet  let  a  sin  go  unpunished,  Ballard,” 
she  faltered.  “We  have  no  right  to  complain.  Have 
they  told  you — ” 

)  She  could  not  finish  the  sentence;  but  he  knew 
from  the  grief  in  her  sweet  eyes  that  she  referredTo 
the  death  of  her  baby.  He  drew  her  closer  to  him 
and  held  her  lips  to  his  cheek. 

“Not  all,  darling,  but  enough  to  make  me  under¬ 
stand  what  a  curse  I  have  been  to  your  pure  life. 
Can  you  ever  forgive  me,  CarroK?” 


222  A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 

I'  “I  told  you  long  ago  that  there  must  be  no  talk 
of  that  between  us.  God  has  forgiven,  and  He  has 
sent  the  sweet  signal  of  pardon  in  you.  Oh,  my  love, 
tny  love !  I  could  not  have  borne  life  longer  without 
you.  The  burden  had  grown  too  great.  I  have  been 
a  terrible  coward.  I  could  not  even  hope  when  they 
told  me  that  you  were  coming.  I  can  scarcely  believe 
that  you  are  here  now,  though  I  feel  the  throb  of  your 
heart  against  my  own.” 

|  “But  it  is  all  true,  my  little  Princess.” 

She  started.  The  old  sweet  name  had  brought  back 
the  memory  of  her  great  loss  to  her.  She  tried  to 
rise,  but  he  was  forced  to  lift  her. 

,  “What  is  it,  sweetheart?”  he  whispered. 

I  “We  must  go  to — her!  Oh,  Ballard,  if  you  could 
only  have  seen  her  once  in  life  I  might  have  been 
Content.” 

i  “Hush,  love!  We  must  not  question  the  will  of 
jGod.  Are  you  strong  enough  to  bear  it?” 

I  “Yes!” 

1  He  lifted  her  from  the  bed  and  supported  her  with’ 
his  strong  arm.  She  was  very  frail,  very  weak,  and 
his  heart  ached  as  he  saw  the  terrible  changes  in  her 
that  suffering  had  wrought;  but  she  was  even  moref. 
beautiful  to  him  than  ever,  and  it  seemed  to  him*' 
that,  much  as  he  had  loved  her  in  the  old  time,  he  had 
not  known  the  meaning  of  love  till  now. 

She  indicated  the  way,  and  he  half  carried  her  to 
the  room  in  which  she  knew  they  had  placed  the  little 
form  that  they  were  so  soon  to  lose  forever. 

They  had  placed  it  upon  a  little  cot,  and  together 
that  father  and  mother  knelt  beside  the  body  of  their 
child. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


223 


When  the  first  grief  had  subsided,  Hilliard  rose 
and  took  the  little  dead  thing  in  his  arms,  holding 
his  baby  for  the  first  time  to  his  breast.  Very  ten¬ 
derly  he  brushed  the  soft  golden  hair  back  from  the 
delicate  brow  and  pressed  his  lips  upon  the  tiny 
mouth,  murmuring  unheard  words  of  love.  ; 

Carroll  sat  there  upon  the  floor  with  her  great, 
grief-stricken  eyes  fixed  upon  them,  thinking  what  a 
radiant  joy  it  would  have  been  had  that  tender  heart 
but  known  that  it  was  her  father  who  held  her,  that 
it  was  her  father  who  whispered  those  precious  words* 
!A.  quivering  sob  escaped  her,  and  laying  the  tiny  thing 
gently  back  upon  the  couch,  Hilliard  lifted  Carroll 
and  took  her  to  the  room  that  they  had  left.  j: 

“It  was  very  bitter,  darling,”  he  whispered,  “bufi 
God  knows  best.  The  world  would  have  been  very 
cruel  to  her,  dear  heart,  because  of  the  sin  of  her 
father.  You  must  remember  that,  and  understand 
that  it  is  best  for  her  sake.” 

But  in  the  first  wild  grief  a  mother  never  can  seg 
the  justice  in  the  sacrifice. 


Chapter  XXXVI. 


There  was  a  long  consultation  half  an  hour  later 
between  Ballard  Hilliard  and  Geraldine  Kingman, 
Carroll  was  present,  but  she  took  no  part  in  it,  lying 
quietly  upon  the  bed  with  her  hand  clasped  tenderly 
in  his.  If  there  was  a  pang  of  jealousy  in  Miss  King¬ 
man’s  heart,  it  was  carefully  concealed,  and  her  coun- 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


224 

tenance  was  as  clear  as  an  unclouded  sky  as  she 
talked. 

If  Hilliard  wondered  at  this,  he  was  too  wise  a 
man  to  speak.  Naturally  he  had  not  forgotten  her 
grief  of  the  night  before,  but  it  seemed  to  him  then 
that  it  was  more  mourning  for  the  shattering  of  an 
ideal  than  suffering  over  the  blow  dealt  her  love. 
The  thought  comforted  him,  and  he  preserved  it. 

“You  wish  my  advice  as  to  what  is  best  to  do?” 
she  asked,  with  a  smile. 

“Yes,”  he  answered,  gratefully.  “We  owe  so  much 
to  you  that — ” 

“Hush!  You  owe  me  nothing.  I  have  cost  you 
a  year  of  suffering  the  most  intense,  and  it  seems  to 
me  now  that  I  can  never  do  enough  to  erase  it.  But 
we  will  let  that  go.  I  thank  Heaven  that  I  was  the 
innocent  rather  than  the  guilty  cause.  Now  here  is 
my  plan.  If  you  don't  like  it,  don’t  hesitate  to  say 
so.” 

“It  is  sure  to  be  the  best  and  most  generous.”  ;  ; 

“Wait  until  you  have  heard  before  you  judge. 
There  is  no  reason  why  any  one  should  know  the  truth 
t)f  this.” 

“I  understand,”  said  Hilliard,  an  expression  of 
shame  coming  to  his  countenance. 

She  hurried  on : 

“And — and  I  think  it  is  your  desire  as  well  as  mine 
that  it  should  be  upon  the  arm  of  her  husband  that 
Carroll  leans  when  she  stands  for  the  last  time  beside 
that  child  whom  she  so  loved.” 

Hilliard  looked  his  gratitude. 

“You  know,”  continued  Miss  Kingman,  “chat  the 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


225 


baby  can  not  be  buried  from  here.  We  will  take  it 
to  New  York  and  have  the  ceremony  from  my  house. 
Before  we  have  reached  the  house  we  will  visit  a 
clergyman  who  is  a  friend  of  mine,  and  to  whom  I 
shall  telegraph  in  advance,  and  you  can  be  quietly 
married  in  his  office  on  your  way  up  from  the  train. 
There  need  be  no  one  present  except  myself  and  some 
member  of  the  minister's  household  who  never  saw 
you  and  will  never  hear  of  you  again.  In  that  way  I 
am  quite  sure  that  we  can  keep  the  matter  confined 
to  those  who  already  know,  and  they  are  sufficiently 
interested  in  Carroll  to  wish  to  be  silent  for  her  sake. 
In  fact,  I  see  no  reason  why  even  they  should  know 
the  real  truth.  If  you  will  let  me  tell  the  story  to 
Harry  Winter  and  to  Russell  Shannon,  there  is  no 
reason  why  I  could  not  arrange  it  satisfactorily  with 
little  trouble.  Do  you  agree  ?” 

“Nothing  could  be  better.  I  don't  see  how  we  are 
to  thank  you  for  all  the  kindness  that  you  are  show¬ 
ing  us,  Jerry.  I  have  deserved  it  very  little.” 

“We  were  not  to  mention  that  subject’  again,  I 
thought.” 

“Rut  how  can  one  be  silent?” 

“Do  you  think  that  I  should  not  be  interested  after 
all  these  years  of  brotherly  and  sisterly  affection?” 
she  asked,  half  averting  her  face. 

“It  sounds  so  strange  to  hear  you  say  that,”  ex¬ 
claimed  Carroll,  softly.  “It  does  not  seem  possible 
that  all  this  hideous  suffering  has  been  a  mistake — • 
that  it  was  useless  from  the  beginning.  Just  to  think, 
Ballard!  I  thought  she  loved  you,  and  it  was  dear, 
generous,  great-hearted  Doctor  Winter  all  the  timet 


226 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


She  is  his  betrothed  wife,  and,  oh,  I  do  pray  God 
that  you  may  be  happy  as  you  deserve,  Miss  King* 
man !” 

She  observed  the  strange  flush  that  had  risen  tb 
Miss  Kingman’s  face,  but  did  not  construe  it  aright. 
Hilliard  had  straightened  up. 

“Betrothed  to  Winter,  you  say?”  he  almost  gaspefi* 

There  was  a  slight  pause  of  embarrassment,  then 
Miss  Kingman  answered,  quietly. 

“Yes.  It  has  been  a  very  great  mistake,  Ballard* 
all  around  I  am  engaged  to  Harry.” 

It  was  not  an  easy  announcement  for  her  to  make. 
Her  very  soul  seemed  to  contract  under  the  pain  of 
it,  but  she  was  repaid  for  her  sacrifice  when  she  saw 
the  expression  of  gladness  upon  Hilliard’s-  face. 

He  sprung  up,  and,  catching  her  about  the  waist* 
kissed  her  upon  the  lips. 

“Thank  God,  Jerry!”  he  cried,  brokenly.  “There 
is  nothing  that  could  have  given  me  greater  happiness 
than  this.  You  have  been  the  good  angel  of  my  life.” 

“No,  the  Nemesis,  Ballard.  But  for  me  you  might 
have  been  happy  months  ago.  Let  me  go  now,  dear. 
Remember  that  I  have  all  the  arrangements  to  make, 
and  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost  if  we  are  to  leave  for 
New  York  tonight.” 

She  left  them  after  that,  and  they  watched  her  go 
as  they  might  have  watched  an  angel.  Hilliard  sus¬ 
pected  more  than  he  cared  to  acknowledge  even  to 
himself,  but  there  could  be  nothing  done,  and  repining 
now  was  useless.  He  was  alone  with  the  single  love 
of  his  entire  life,  and  in  spite  of  the  terrible  grief  that 
was  upon  them  in  the  first  hours  of  their  reunion, 
be  was  happy- 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


2 27i 


K  was  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  that  Doctor* 
[Winter  entered  the  room  where  Miss  Kingman  stood 
with  the  undertaker.  The  latter  was  upon  the  point 
of  leaving,  and  took  his  departure  soon  after.  Then 
she  turned  to  Winter. 

“You  should  have  gone  to  your  room  to  rest  after 
leaving  the  hospital,  instead  of  coming  here,”  she  said 
gently.  “You  are  sadly  in  need  of  it.” 

“Do  you  think  I  could  rest  until  I  had  seen  you?” 
he  said,  with  an  unsuccessful  effort  to  conceal  his 
agitation.  “I  think  this  day  has  been  filled  with  the 
greatest  unrest  I  have  ever  known.  There  has  seemed 
a  week  in  each  hour.” 

Miss  Kingman's  face  was  slowly  alternating  from 
white  to  crimson.  Her  hands  were  trembling,  and 
her  lips  almost  refused  to  do  her  bidding  as  she  tried 
to  speak  calmly,  avoiding  the  subject  to  which  she 
knew  he  referred. 

“It  has  been  a  long  day,  hasn't  it?”  she  asked. 
“But  then  there  has  been  so  much  to  do — so  much 
to  hear.  What  would  you  think  if  I  should  tell  you 
that  there  was  a  secret  marriage  long  ago  between 
Ballard  Hilliard  and  Carroll?” 

“I  should  call  him  no  less  a  contemptible  scoundrel 
than  I  think  him  now !”  answered  Winter,  with  energy. 

“You  must  not  say  that — indeed  you  must  not,  for 
there  is  no  man  who  deserves  it  less  than  Ballard 
The  circumstances  that  have  surrounded  him  have 
been  most  unfortunate,  that  is  all.  I  can  not  explain 
them  to  you,  but  when  I  tell  you  that  I  am  more  than 
satisfied  you  will  understand  that  you  have  misjudged 
him,  will  you  not?” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


223 

But  in  spite  of  her  pleading,  Winter  was  not  quite 
convinced. 

“Yet  he  was  engaged  to  you  when  he  had  a  wife!” 
he  said,  heavily. 

“He  thought  her  dead.  The  person  who  we  all! 
believed  to  he  Carroll  lies  in  Woodlawn,  where  Ballard 
and  I  stood  side  by  side  to  see  her  buried.  He  never 
concealed  his  love  for  her  from  me.  There  was  no 
deception.  I  knew  that  he  never  loved  me.  He  has 
suffered  as  men  rarely  do.  Don’t  become  a  Pharisee  S 
Judge  nothing  that  you  do  not  understand.  I  am  not 
at  liberty  to  tell  you  secrets  that  are  not  my  own,  but 
you  will  try  to  believe,  will  you  not  ?” 

“I  am  willing  to  accept  whatever  you  say  is  right, 
because  I  am  utterly  in  the  dark.  They  have  their 
own  reasons,  I  suppose,  for  wishing  to  conceal  these 
things,  and  I  have  neither  the  desire  nor  the  right  to 
pry  into  them.  But  there  is  one  part  of  it  which  con¬ 
cerns  me  very  closely,  and  it  is  upon  that  point  that 
I  have  come  to  you  today.  Geraldine,  what  wras  it 
that  you  meant  by  making  the  announcement  to — 
shall  I  say  Mrs.  Hilliard? — that  you  did?” 

He  paused  and  looked  down  upon  her,  but  her  eyes 
were  upon  the  floor,  and  she  did  not  reply.  Herj 
breathing  was  not  quite  regular.  Pie  understood  her 
embarrassment  clearly  enough,  and  took  her  hand 
soothingly,  tenderly,  not  quite  concealing  his  own 
emotions,  but  succeeding  in  remaining  very  quiet. 

“I  asked  you  only  a  little  while  ago  to  be  my  wife, 
and  you  declined,”  he  said,  slowly.  “Plave  you  re¬ 
considered  your  answer  ?  Are  you  willing  to  trust  me 
with  your  future,  Jerry?” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


229 


She  bravely  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  face. 

“The  situation  is  a  most  distressing  one,  Harry,” 
she  answered,  hesitatingly.  “I  am  afraid  that  I  have 
taken  a  most  contemptible  advantage  of  you,  and  you 
have  the  right  to  withdraw  from  it  if  you  so  desire. 
The  announcement  that  I  made  was  an  impulse  in 
which  you  were  not  considered.  I  see  how  wrong  it 
was.  I  wish  you  would  not  take  that  into  consideration 
at  all,  Harry.  I  wish  that  you  would  forget  that  I 
have  said  that.” 

■“I  don’t  think  I  quite  comprehend  you.  Is  it  that 
you  wish  to  withdraw  from  the  unconsidered 
engagement  ?” 

She  did  not  reply ;  but  again  her  eyes  were  cast  upon 
the  floor. 

A  sudden  flush  dyed  Winter’s  face. 

“Very  well !”  he  cried,  passionately.  “So  be  it.  Let 
us  forget  all  the  past.  Jerry,  will  you  be  my  wife? 
.You  know  that  I  love  you — you  know  that  I  always 
shall.  What  is  your  answer  ?” 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  lifted  them 
gratefully. 

“You  are  so  good,  so  generous!”  she  cried,  broken¬ 
ly.  “Let  me  be  thoroughly  honest,  if  I  can.  It  is  too 
new  yet,  Harry,  to  talk  about  forgetting  the  past.  I 
have  told  you  before,  and  I  told  the  truth.  I  have  no 
right  to  tell  you  that  it  was  all  a  mistake,  for  that 
would  be  a  cruel  falsehood.  But  are  you  willing  to 
trust  me,  Harry?  Are  you  willing  to  wait?” 

“As  Jacob  did  for  Rachel.” 

“Then  I  will  be  your  wife,  Harry.” 

There  was  no  great  demonstration  upon  either  side. 


230 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


He  kissed  her  forehead  quietly  and  pressed  her  hand* 
The  undertaker  came  to  her  for  some  instructions 
and  she  left  her  betrothed  husband  to  give  them. 


Chapter  XXXVII. 


There  was  a  quiet  wedding  in  a  little  parsonage 
the  same  evening,  in  New  York,  at  which  only  the 
contracting  parties,  the  clergyman,  Miss  Kingman, 
and  a  person  who  signed  his  name  Harris  Heming- 
way  were  present.  The  last  named  rather  objected, 
after  the  old-fashioned  idea,  to  seeing  a  woman  mar¬ 
ried  in  black ;  but  Miss  Kingman  felt  sure  tha* 
that  would  never  effect  the  happiness  of  Ballard 
Hilliard’s  young  wife,  and  so  expressed  herself. 

They  were  driven  immediately  after  the  ceremony 
to  Miss  Kingman’s  residence,  when  Hilliard  himself 
insisted  upon  "going  after  Mrs.  Melbourne.  Miss 
Kingman  offered  to  go,  but  Hilliard  would  not  listen 
to  that,  and,  taking  the  same  carriage  that  had  brought 
them,  he  drove  to  the  old  tenement  that  was  to  be 
Millicent  Millbourne’s  home  no  longer.  ^ 

What  occurred  there  no  one  ever  knew,  but  Hill¬ 
iard  told  Carroll  afterward  that  he  had  spoken  only 
the  truth  to  her  mother.  Certain  it  was  that  she  went 
back  with  him  to  the  residence  of  Miss  Kingman.  No 
one  saw  her  meeting  with  her  daughter,  and  no  one 
asked  what  took  place,  but  it  was  upon  the  arm  of 
her  son-in-law  that  she  leaned  when  she  looked  for 
the  first  and  last  time  upon  the  face  of  her  grand- 
rkughter. 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


231 


It  was  a  most  pathetic  picture,  but  one  in  which  all 
saw  great  happiness  in  the  perspective,  in  spite  of  the 
shadow  upon  it  then. 

The  funeral  occurred,  with  strict  privacy,  next  day, 
the  little  form  being  placed  by  that  other  one  in 
iWoodlawn  over  whom  they  had  wept  such  bitter  tears. 

I  The  story  of  the  private  marriage,  the  subsequent 
misunderstanding,  and  the  supposed  death  were  told 
to  Mrs.  Shannon  and  Russell,  also  to  all  those  who 
had  known  Carroll  during  that  wretched  time,  and  if 
there  were  any  doubts  upon  the  subject,  those  most 
interested  never  knew. 

Mrs.  Melbourne  was  established  shortly  after  that 
in  a  house  that  was  the  property  of  Ballard  Hilliard, 
and,  after  being  sure  of  her  perfect  comfort,  he  and 
his  wife  started  away  for  a  tour  about  the  world  that 
Was  to  last  for  several  months.  It  was  rather  difficult 
for  Mrs.  Melbourne  to  lose  her  daughter  so  soon  after 
her  recovery ;  but  then  she  knew  that  it  was  wisest  and 
best,  and  said  nothing  but  words  of  encouragement 
when  the  plan  was  proposed  by  Hilliard. 

During  the  hours  of  leisure  and  comfort  of  mind 
and  body  that  followed  Mrs.  Millbourne  made  the 
translation  of  the  novel  that  Hilliard  had  brought  her 
upon  that  night  that  she  had  known  the  greatest  sor¬ 
row  of  her  life.  It  proved  to  be  the  forerunner  of 
what  was  afterward  a  wonderful  success  in  the  line 
of  translations.  An  original  novel  was  added  later  on 
in  life,  and  from  it  today  her  name  stands  enrolled 
most  brilliantly  prominent  in  the  archives  of  literature. 

It  was  not  long  after  the  departure  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hilliard  that  the  father  of  Miss  Kingman  died.  TW^ 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


232 

had  been  an  unusual  attachment  between  the  two,  and 
life  was  exceedingly  lonely  to  her.  It  was  during 
one  of  his  visits  to  New  York  that  Harry  Winter 
observed  the  emptiness  of  her  life,  and,  while  he  had 
resolved  never  to  urge  her  to  become  his  wife,  but  to 
allow  her  to  take  her  own  time,  he  could  bear  it  no 
longer,  and  broke  the  pledge  he  had  made  himself. 

He  urged  upon  her  only  the  companionship  of  which 
she  was  standing  so  much  in  need,  and  she  accepted 
it.  He  went  back  to  Philadelphia,  resigned  his  posi¬ 
tion  there,  and,  with  very  little  preparation,  there  was 
another  wedding.  Hilliard  and  Carroll  were  still 
absent,  which  was  as  Miss  Kingman  would  have 
desired. 

Then  they,  too,  went  abroad,  remaining  for  more 
than  a  year.  The  companionship  was  close  enough, 
but  a  wedding  like  that  is  a  most  dangerous  thing, 
a  fact  which  Geraldine  realized  painfully  after  mar¬ 
riage.  She  hesitated  to  go  to  her  husband,  who  was 
nothing  more  than  her  brother,  after  all,  with  any  of 
the  affairs  that  concerned  her,  lest  he  misunderstand 
or  misconstrue  her.  It  was  the  silence  which  he  mis¬ 
understood,  and  a  coldness,  a  formality  sprung  up 
between  them  that  effectually  froze  the  sweet  intimacy 
of  the  marriage  tie. 

They  neither  had  the  courage  to  propose  a  return 
home,  and  a  time  of  as  great  misery  as  either  had 
ever  known  had  come  upon  them.  Winter  was  all 
that  she  could  have  desired,  in  so  far  as  his  attentions 
were  concerned,  but  they  were  the  attentions  of  the 
courteous  stranger,  and  not  the  lover. 

Wcman-like,  the  great  change,  which  was  con* 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


233 


'stantly  growing,  cut  her  to  the  heart,  and  she  began 
to  yearn  for  the  demonstrations  that  he  had  shown 
her  at  first.  From  the  small  acknowledgement  to  her 
own  heart,  to  the  ultimate  realization  that  she  was 
passionately  in  love  with  him,  was  the  work  of  months, 
and  months  of  thorough  unhappiness  to  them  both. 
'  They  were  in  a  far  distant  land  upon  the  anniver¬ 
sary  of  their  marriage,  but  the  memories  that  the  day 
brought  were  not  mentioned  between  them  when  the 
evening  came.  They  were  seated  in  the  same  room, 
.Winter  pretending  to  read,  and  his  wife  gazing  from 
a  window  at  something  which  she  could  not  see,  when 
the  silence  and  the  yearning  grew  too  great  to  be 
borne.  She  rose  suddenly  with  an  energy  that  was 
born  of  despair,  intending  to  end  all  then  and  there, 
but  the  sight  of  his  emotionless  face  stopped  her. 

The  sudden  movement,  the  start,  the  stop  attracted 
him.  He  glanced  up.  The  quivering  countenance  in 
that  usually  impassive  face  startled  him.  Fie  laid  his 
paper  aside  and  arose. 

“What  is  it,  Geraldine?”  he  asked,  quietly.  “Are 
you  not  well?” 

The  sound  of  the  voice  loosened  all  the  flood-gates 
of  her  misery. 

“No,”  she  cried,  “I  am  not  well!  I  want  to  go 
home.  Why  do  you  not  take  me  ?  It  is  all  too  utterly 
wretched  to  be  borne  longer.  I  tell  you  that  I  shall 
die  under  it!  Take  me  home,  and  I  promise  you  that 
you  shall  never  be  distressed  again  with  the  sight  of 
a  face  that  has  grown  hateful  to  you !” 

“Geraldine!” 

“Let  me  finish  while  I  can.  I  know  that  J  did 


234 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


wrong  to  almost  force  you  into  that  engagement  witli 
me,  and  I  have  received  nothing  that  I  have  not  de¬ 
served,  but  surely  it  is  enough.  I  can’t  tell  you  how 
I  have  suffered— how  I  am  suffering !  Oh,  Harry, 
take  me  home !  I  will  keep  my  word  to  you,  let  the 
post  be  what  it  may  !” 

He  was  upon  his  feet.  There  was  grief  and  shame 
blended  in  his  expression.  He  took  her  hand  and  very, 
gently  forced  her  into  a  seat.  Once  or  twice  he 
walked  up  and  down  the  floor  to  regain  his  com¬ 
posure,  listening  to  the  sound  of  her  convulsive  weep¬ 
ing;  then  he  returned  and  stood  with  his  hand  upon 
the  back  of  her  chair,  looking  sadly  down  upon  her. 

“  Jerry,1 ”  he  said,  softly,  calling  her  by  the  old  name 
for  the  first  time  in  months,  “I  can  not  tell  you  what 
this  has  cost  me.  I  have  seen  for  some  time  how; 
utterly  miserable  you  have  been,  and  I  have  wanted 
to  suggest  that  we  return  home,  but  I  did  not  know 
how  to  frame  the  suggestion  in  a  way  that  you  would 
not  misunderstand.  God  knows,  if  I  had  ever  guessed 
that  our  marriage  was  to  end  in  this  way,  I  would 
have  sacrificed  my  life  before  forcing  it  upon  you  as 
I  did.  I  deluded  myself  into  the  belief  that  I  could 
win  your  love,  when  I  see  now  that  I  was  taking  thef 
shortest  way  to  make  you  despise  me.  I  wish  I  could  • 
make  you  understand  my  position.  I  wish  I  could 
make  you  see  how  bitterly  I  regret  the  past,  but  that 
is  impossible.  It  is  but  natural  that  you  should  have 
only  the  hardest,  most  cruel  thoughts  of  me,  and  when 
I  try  to  say  anything  to  convince  you  that  I  am  not 
the  creature  you  have  imagined  me,  my  tongue  seems 
tied,  and  I  can  say  nothing.” 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


235 


Her  tears  had  ceased,  and  she  was  staring  up  at 
him  with  an  astonishment  which  he  could  not  translate. 

She  turned  in  her  chair  and  put  her  hand  upon  his. 
His  fingers  closed  spasmodically  over  her  own. 
f  “What  are  you  saying,  Harry ?”  she  asked,  in  a 
queer  tone.  “Do  you  mean  that  you  are  so  blind  that 
you  think  still  that  I  do  not  love  you  ?” 

|  A  boyish  flush  leaped  to  his  brow. 

;  “Don’t  torture  me!”  he  said,  little  above  a  whisper. 
“You  know  that  the  one  passion  of  my  life  has  been 
given  to  you,  and — ” 

|  “That  it  died?” 

'  She  almost  held  her  breath  for  his  reply  to  her  half 
assertion,  half  interrogation. 

“Died!”  he  ejaculated,  hoarsely.  “When?  I  don’t 
Want  to  trouble  you  with  my  feelings,  but  yet  neither 
Would  I  have  you  believe  that  which  is  so  untrue.  I 
don’t  ask  for  anything  in  return  now,  because  I  see 
that  it  is  so  cruelly  impossible,  but  I  have  never  loved 
you  as  I  do  at  this  moment.” 

She  was  upon  her  feet  before  him,  and  a  single  ex-* 
elamation  had  fallen  from  her  lips.  It  was : 

“Oh,  Harry!” 

But  there  was  such  a  world  of  expression  in  it  that 
he  peered  into  her  face  with  a  curious  start;  then, 
when  he  had  seen,  he  caught  her  hand  in  a  grasp  that 
was  painful. 

“Speak  to  me  quickly!”  he  gasped.  “What  is  it 
that  you  mean?  This  is  exquisite  torture,  so  don’t 
keep  me  in  suspense!” 

“We  have  been  so  blind,”  she  said.  “Do  you  think 
that  God  always  darkens  a  life  that  He  shadows?  Oh, 


236 


A  LITTLE  PRINCESS 


Harry,  I  have  believed  that  you  had  grown  to  despise 
xne,  and  it  almost  broke  my  heart,  because  I  love  you !” 
“My  wife!” 


There  is  little  left  to  tell. 

During  their  voyage  home,  there  was  another  heir 
born  to  the  Hilliard  estate — another  girl,  called  this 
time  Geraldine  Kingman  Hilliard,  and  a  right  welcome 
addition  she  is  to  the  household,  the  spoiled  idol  of 
her  fond  grandmamma.  It  is  a  joyous  reunion  in 
which  there  is  no  shadow  of  regret  upon  the  part  of 
any  one,  and  Harry  Winter  is  not  that  last  to  realize 
that  happy  fact. 

Russell  Shannon  is  the  only  wanderer. 

He.  never  married,  but  devoted  his  life  to  his. 
mother,  and  now  that  the  years  have  softened  the 
sting  of  bitterness  connected  with  his  love,  he  visits 
the  Hilliards  and  his  former  brother-in-law  fre¬ 
quently,  doing  his  share  to  spoil  the  ever-petted  Miss 
Hilliard  in  the  most  approved  fashion. 

If  there’s  a  shadow  even  so  large  as  a  man’s  hand 
in  the  sunlit  horizon,  the  most  experienced  skipper 
has  not  yet  discovered  it. 


THE  END. 


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